1 

0 

AL  LIBf 

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ACILITY 

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5182 

M3 
1892 


THE   MAGISTRATE 


A     FARCE     IN     THREE     ACTS 


A.  W.  PINERO'S  PLAYS. 

PLEASE  READ  CAREFULLY. 

The  acting  rights  of  the  following  plays  have  been  reserved 
by  the  author.  Performance  is  strictly  forbidden  unless  the 
express  consent  of  the  author's  agents  has  first  been  obtained; 
and  attention  is  called  to  the  penalties  provided  by  law  for  the 
infringement  of  his  rights,  as  follows: 

"  Sec.  4966 :  Any  person  publicly  performing  or  representing  any 
dramatic  or  musical  composition,  for  which  copyright  has  been  ob- 
tained, without  the  consent  of  the  proprietor  of  said  dramatic  or 
musical  composition,  or  his  heirs  or  assigns,  sliall  be  liable  for  dam- 
ages therefor,  such  damages  in  all  cases  to  be  assessed  at  such  sum, 
not  less  than  one  hundred  dollars  for  the  first  and  fifty  dollars  for 
every  subsequent  performance,  as  to  the  court  shall  appear  to  be  just. 
Jf  the  unlawful  performance  and  representation  be  wilful  and  for  profit, 
such  person  or  persons  shall  be  guilty  of  a  misdemeanor,  and  upon 
conviction  be  imprisoned  for  a  period  not  exceeding  one  year."^ 
U.  S.  Kevisud  Statutes,  TiiJe  60,  C/ia/.  3. 

Permission  to  perform  these  plays  privately  and  by  amateur 
players  may  be  obtained  from  the  publishers  on  payment,  in 
advance,  ol  a  royalty  of  $10.00  for  each  performance.  Persons 
wishing  to  present  them  professionally  and  for  a  number  of  per- 
formances should  apply  to  Mr.  Dan'l  P^ohman,  Lyceum  Theatre, 
New  York,  for  such  permission  and  for  terms. 

The  Amazons.  The  Notorious  Mrs.  Bbbsmith. 

The  Cabinet  Minister,  The  Profligate. 

Dandy  Dick.  The  Schoolmistress. 

The  Hobby  Horse.  The  Second  Mrs.  Tanqueray* 

Lady  Bountiful.  Sweet  Lavender. 

The  Magistrate.  The  Times. 
The  Weaker  Sex. 


Any  of  iJie  ahoz'e  suit,  fast  f>atJ,  on  receipt  0/  price  (50  cents  hach)  by 

BAKER,  5  HAMILTON  PLACE,  BOSTON. 


THE   MAGISTRATE 


A  FARCE  IN  THREE  ACTS 


T.X 

ARTHUR  W.  PINERO 


yi/I  rights  reserved.  Performance  for- 
bidden, and  rigid  of  representation  reserved. 
Application  for  the  right  of  performing  this 
piece   must   be   made  to  the  publishers. 


BOSTON 


CopyRIGHT,    1892, 
BY 

ARTHUR  W.  PINERO. 

[A//  rights  rf served^ 


D^'"  SAnVa  BA»BiU« 


INTRODUCTORY   NOTE 

"The  Magistrate"  is,  after  "Sweet  Lavender," 
perhaps,  the  most  popular  of  Mr.  Pinero's  plajs, 
and  it  is  particularly  interesting  as  being  the  first  of 
his  works  in  which  his  own  individuality  found  ab- 
solutely independent  expression,  and  emphatically 
and  triumjihantly  asserted  itself.  In  fact  this  farce 
marks  an  epoch  in  the  dramatist's  career,  and  shows 
him  creating  a  really  new  and  oi'iginal  order  of 
English  comic  play,  the  further  development  of 
which  may  be  traced  in  the  successive  plays  which, 
together  with  "  The  Magistrate,"  formed  the  famous 
Court  series  of  farces,  namely,  "  The  Schoolmis- 
tress," "  Dandy  Dick,"  and  "  The  Cabinet  Min- 
ister." 

Because  Mr.  Pinero  had  previously  written  "  The 
Rocket,"  and  "In  Chancery,"  for  Mr.  Edward  Terr}^ 
who  has  performed  them  times  out  of  number  in 
London  and  the  provinces  with  considerable  success, 
it  has  been  assumed  that  "The  Magistrate"  was 
also  written  for  Mr.  Terrv.     But  this  was  not  the 


vi  INTRODUCTORY  NOTE 

case.  As  a  matter  of  fact  jMr.  Pinero  wrote  the  play 
quite  iiulependently,  and  on  its  comjiletion  be  was 
to  have  read  it  to  ]Mr.  Charles  Wyndham,  but  the 
necessities  of  the  Court  Theatre  intervened.  The 
management  of  the  late  Mr.  John  Clayton  and  Ar- 
thur Cecil  was  decidedly  in  low  water  in  1884  and 
the  earlier  -p'^wi  of  1885  ;  i)lay  after  play  had  been 
produced  without  success,  when  at  length  applica- 
tion was  made  to  Mr.  Pinero  for  a  new  piece.  They 
had  been  performing  serious  plays,  and  he  read 
them  "  The  Weaker  Sex,"  which  he  had  written 
some  little  time  before  ;  but  Mr.  Clayton  felt  un- 
certain about  this  play,  which,  by  the  way,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Kendal  have  since  produced,  and  then  Mr. 
Pinero,  mentioning  the  new  comic  play  he  had  just 
finished,  suggested  that  perhaps  an  entirely  new 
order  of  entertainment  might  serve  to  change  the 
fortunes  of  the  house.  "The  Magistrate  "  was  im- 
mediately accepted  and  produced,  and  his  conject- 
ure proved  true,  for  the  luck  of  the  theatre  promptly 
turned. 

"  The  Magistrate "  was  produced  at  the  Court 
Theatre  on  Saturday,  March  21,  1885,  with  a  cast, 
particulars  of  which  will  be  found  in  the  following 
copy  of  the  first  night  programme  : 


INTRODUCTOIiV  NOTE  vii 

ROYAL    COURT    THEATRE, 

SLOANK   SCJUAUE,    S.W. 

Le.ssres  and  jVeDin/jerx  : 

]\Ir.  John  Claytc^n  and  JIu.  Autiur  Cecil. 

THIS     EVENING,    SATURDAY,    MARCH    21, 

At  a  Quarter  to  Nine  o'clock, 
WILL   BE   PRODUCED   FOR  THE  FIRST  TIME, 

THE   MxVGISTRATE, 

AN   ORIGINAL    FARCE,    IN    THREE   ACTS, 
BY 

A.  W.  PINERO. 


Mr.  Posket      I  Magistrates  of  the  Miil-  \  Mr.  Arthur  Cecil. 

Mr.  Bcllamy  <   berry  Street  Police  Court  (  Mr.  Fred  Cape. 

Colonel  Lukyn  (from  Bengal — retired)     Mr.  John  Clayton. 

Captain  Horace  Vale  (Shropshire  Fu- 
siliers)        Mr.  F.  Kerr. 

CiS  Farringdon  (Mrs.  Posket's  son,  by 

her  first  marriage)    .         .         .         .     Mr.  H.  Eversfield. 

ACHILLE  Blond  (Proprietor  of  the  Hotel 

des  Princes) Mr.  Chevalier. 

Isidore  (A  Waiter) Mr.  Delane. 

Mr.  Wormington  (Chief  Cleik  at  Mul- 
berry Street) Mr.  Gilbert  Trent. 

Inspector  Messiter  i  iT„|,.„„„K.„n   p„   (  Mr.  Albert  Sims. 

Serjeant  Lugo  [  Metiopolitan   t^o- )  ^^^  lugg. 

Constable  Harris     )  (  Mr.  Burnley. 

Wyke  (Servant  at  Mr.  Posket's)  .     Mr.  Fayre. 


Agatha    Posket  (late   Farringdon,    »c> 

Verrinder) Mrs.  John  Wood. 

Charlotte  (Her  Sister)    ....  Miss  Marion  Terry. 

Beatie  Tomlinson  (a  Young  Lady  re- 
duced to  teaching  music)  .         .  Miss  Norreys. 

PoPHAM Miss  La  Coste. 


viii  IXTRODUCTORr  NOTE 

ACT  I. 

THE    FAMILY   SKELETON. 
At  Mr.  PoskeVs,  Bloomsbury. 

ACT  II. 

IT   LEAVES   ITS  CUPBOARD. 

Room  in  the  Uotel  des  Princes,  Meek  Street. 


ACT  in. 

IT   CRUMBLES. 

Scene  \.  —  TI>e  Magistrate' n  Room,  Mulberry  Street. 

Scene  2. — Al  the  Poskets'  again. 


Prece  ED  BJ  A  Comedietta  by 
A.  W.  DUBOURG, 

ENTITLED 

TWENTY  MINUTES   UNDER   AN  UMBRELLA. 


CousiJJ  Kate Miss  Norreys. 

Cousin  Frank Mr.  H.  Reeves  Smith. 


Musical  nirector     ....     MR.  CARL  AEMBRUSTER. 
Sicrttary  .        .        .        .MR.  GEORGE  COLEMAN. 


The  success  of  "  The  Magistrate  "  was  immediate, 
and  the  Court  Theatre  was  crowded  night  after 
night  for  more  than  a  year,  the  play  being  pre- 
sented over  three  hundred  times.  So  prosperous 
was  the  run  that  there  was  no  cessation  during  the 
summer  holiday  season,  and  when  Mr.  Arthur  Cecil 
went  abroad  for  his  vacation,  his  place  as  Posket 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE  \\ 

was  ttiken  by  Mr.  BeerboLm  Tree,  while  Miss  Lot- 
tie Veiine  and  Mrs.  Tree  in  like  manner  relieved 
Mrs.  John  Wood  and  Miss  Marion  Terry. 

This  success,  however,  was  not  confined  to  Lon- 
don, for  three  companies  were  soon  cari-yiug  the 
play  triumphantly  over  the  English  provinces,  while 
in  September,  1885,  Mr.  Pinero  went  to  New  York 
to  produce  his  work  at  Daly's  Theatre.  Mr.  Daly 
had  suggested  that  Miss  Ada  Rehan  should  play  the 
boy,  Cis  Farringdon,  but  to  this  the  author  ob- 
jected, and  Miss  Rehan  played  Mrs.  Posket,  while 
Mr.  Posket  was  represented  b}'  Mr.  James  Lewis, 
and  Colonel  Lukyn  by  Mr.  John  Drew.  "The 
Magistrate  "  enjoyed  an  exceptionally  long  run  in 
New  York,  as  well  as  in  Boston,  and  in  the  latter 
city  it  is  now  performed  every  year,  being  included 
in  the  regular  season  of  classic  English  comedies  at 
the  Boston  Museum.  "The  Magistrate"  has  also 
been  played  throughout  the  United  States,  the  late 
John  T.  Raymond  having  been  closely  associated 
with  the  play  for  a  considerable  time. 

"  The  Magistrate  "  has  travelled  more  widely  than 
most  modern  English  plays,  and  besides  being  a 
stock  piece  in  Australia,  India,  and  South  Africa,  it 
has  been  translated  into  more  than  one  foreign 
tongue.  Under  the  title  "  Der  Blaue  Grotte " 
("The  Blue  Grotto")  it  is  constantly  played  all 
over  German}'  and  Austria,   while  in  the    Slavonic 


X  lyTRonrcToRV  xotk 

language  it  is  a  favorite  play  at  the  National  Thea- 
tre, Prague.  At  one  time  a  proposal  was  made, 
through  the  late  Mr.  John  Clayton,  that  "  The  Mag- 
istrate "  should  be  adapted  to  the  French  stage,  but 
the  suggestions  of  the  j)roposed  Parisian  adapter 
■were,  though  eminently  characteristic,  of  such  a 
nature  that  Mr.  Pinero  did  not  feel  justified  in  ac- 
ceding to  them. 

"While  Mrs.  John  Wood  and  Mr.  Arthur  Chud- 
leigh  were  still  joint  managers  of  the  Court,  there 
was  some  intention  of  reviving  "The  Magistrate" 
at  that  theatre,  but  as  matters  afterward  developed, 
Mr.  Pinero  arranged  that  the  revival  should  take 
place  under  the  auspices  of  Mr.  Edward  Terry,  who 
accordingly  appeared  as  ]\Ir.  Posket  at  his  own 
theatre  on  Wednesday,  Ajnil  13,  1892. 

MALCOLM   C.    SALAMAN. 


THE   PERSONS    OF   THE  PLAY 


Mr.  Posket  (Marjistrdte  of  Mulberry  Street  Police  Court), 

Agatha  Posket, 

Cis  Farringdon  {her  son), 

Charlotte  Verrixder  {her  sister). 

Colonel  Lukyn, 

Captain  Horace  Vale, 

Beatie  Tomlinson, 

Mr.  Bullamy  (Magistrate  of  Mulberry  Street  Folice  Court), 

AcHiLLE  Blond, 

Isidore, 

]\[r.  Wormington, 

Inspector  Messiter,  ^ 

Sergeant  Lugg,  y  {Metropolitan  Police), 

Constable  Harris,     ) 

Wyke, 

POPHAM. 


THE   FIRST  ACT. 
The  Family  Skeleton. 


THE    SECOND    ACT. 
It   Leaves  Its  Cupboard. 


THE    THIRD    ACT. 
It  Crumbles. 


THE  MAGISTRATE 


THE  FIRST  ACT. 

The  scene  represents  a  well  furnisJted  drawing-room  in 
the  house  oJ'^Ir.  Posket  in  Bhomsburij. 

Beatie  Tomlinson,  a  pretty,  simpbj  dressed  little  r/irl 
of  about  sixteen,  /x  plai/inr/  the  piano,  as  Cis  Fak- 
RiNGDON,  a  manlij  tjouth  ivearing  an  Eton  jacket, 
enters  the  room. 

Cis. 
Beatie ! 

Beatie. 
Cis,  dear  !     Dinuer  isn't  over,  surely? 

Cis. 

Not  quite.  I  had  one  of  in}-  convenient  headaches 
and  cleared  out.  [Taking  an  apple  and  some  cnbnids 
from  Jiis  pocket  and  giving  tliem  to  Beatie.J  These 
are  for  you,  dear,  with  my  love,  I  sneaked  'em  off 
the  sideboard  as  I  came  out. 

Beatie. 
Oh,  I  mustn't  take  them  I 


THE  MAOISTRATB 


Cis. 


Yes,  you  may — it's  my  share  of  dessert.  Besides, 
it's  a  horrid  shame  you  doii't  grub  with  us. 

Beatie, 

What,  a  poor  little  music  mistress  ! 

Cis. 

Yes.  They're  only  going  to  give  you  four  guineas 
a  quarter.  Fancy  getting  a  girl  like  you  for  four 
guineas  a  quarter — why,  an  eighth  of  you  is  worth 
more  than  that !     Now  peg  away  at  your  apple. 

[Produces  a  cigarette.^ 

Beatie. 

There's  company  at  dinner,  inn't  there? 

[jlfti/iching  Iter  apple.] 

Cis. 

Well,  hardly.  Aunt  Charlotte  hasn't  arrived  yet, 
so  there's  only  old  Bullamy. 

Beatie. 
Isn't  old  Bullamy  anybody  ? 

Cis. 

Old  Bullamy — well,  he's  only  like  the  guv'nor,  a 
police  magistrate  at  the  Mulberry  Street  Police 
Court. 

Beatie. 

Oh,  does  each  police  court  have  two  magistrates? 

Cis. 
[Pi'ozidh/.]     All  the  best  have  two. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  3 

Beatie. 

Don't  they  quarrel  over  getting  the  interesting 
cases  ?     I  should. 

Cis. 

I  don't  know  how  they  manage — perhaps  they  toss 
np  who's  to  liear  the  big  sensations  Tliere's  ii  IMrs. 
Beldam  who  is  rather  a  bore  sometimes  ;  I  know  the 
Guv  always  lets  old  BuUamy  attend  to  her.  But,  as 
a  rule,  I  fancy  they  go  half  and  half,  in  a  friendly 
way.  [Lighfiiig  cigardle.]  For  instance,  if  the  guv'- 
nor  wants  to  go  to  the  Derby  he  lets  old  BuUamy 
have  the  Oaks — and  so  on,  see  ? 

[lie  sits  on  the  floor,  comfort ablij  reclining  ugaind 
Beatie,  and  puffing  Im  cigarette.'] 

Beatie. 

Oh,  I  say,  Cis,  won't  your  mamma  be  angry  when 
she  finds  I  haven't  gone  homo  ? 

Cis. 

Oh,  put  it  on  to  your  pupil.  Say  I'm  very  back- 
ward.    . 

Beatie. 

I  think  you  are  extremely  forward — in  some  ways. 
[Biting  the  apple  and  speaking  with  her  month  fall.'] 
I  do  wish  I  could  get  you  to  concentrate  your  atten- 
tion on  your  music-lessons.  But  I  wouldn't  get  you 
into  a  scrape  ! 

Cis. 

No  fear  of  that.     Ma  is  too  proud  of  me. 

Beatie. 

But  there's  your  step-father. 


4  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Cis. 

The  clear  old  guv'nor  !  Why,  he  is  too  good- 
H.itured  to  say  "Bo ! "  to  a  goose.  You  know, 
Beatie,  I  was  at  a  school  at  Brighton  when  uia  got 
married — when  she  got  married  the  second  time,  I 
mean — and  the  guv'nor  and  I  didn't  make  each 
other's  acquaintance  till  after  the  honeymoon. 

Beatie. 

Oh,  fancy  your  step-father  blindly  accepting  such 
a  responsibihty.  [Cife-s  liim  a  cobnut  to  crack  for 
Aer.] 

Cis. 

Yes,  wasn't  the  guv'nor  soft !     I  might  have  been  a 
very  indifferent  sort  of  young  fellow  for  all  he  knew. 
[Having  cracked  the  nut  with  his  teeth,  he  returns 
ii  to  Aer.] 

Beatie  ! 
Thank  you,  dear. 

Cis. 

Well,  when  I  heard  the  new  dad  was  a  police 
magistrate,  I  k'a.s  scared.  Said  I  to  myself,  "  If  I 
don't  mind  my  Ps  and  Qs,  the  guv'nor — from  force 
of  habit — will  line  me  all  my  pocket  money."     But 

it's  quite  the  reverse — he's  the  mildest,  meekest 

[TIlc  door  02jens  .^iuddenJi/.]     Look  out!     Someone 
coming ! 

[Th.ei/  both  jun}p  up,  Beatie  scattering  the  nuts 
that  are  in  her  tap  all  over  the  Jioor.  Cis 
throws  his  cigarette  into  the  fireplace  and  sit^ 
at  the  piano,  playing  a  simple  exercise  verij 
badly.     Beatie  stands  behind  him,  cou7iting.^ 


THE  MAGISTRATE  5 

Be  ATI  K. 

One — and  two — and  one — and  two. 

[Wyke,  (hehuf/er,  appmrnat  (lie.  door,  and  mijsierious- 
ly  closes  it  after  ]ii))i.\ 

Wyke. 
Ssss!     Master  Cis!     Master  Cis  ! 

Cis. 
Hallo— what  is  it,  Wyke  ? 

W^YKE. 

[Producing  a  df-canler  from  under  his  coat.]  The 
port  wine  what  you  asked  for,  sir.  I  couldn't  get  it 
away  before — the  old  gentleuian  do  hug  port  wine  so. 

Cis. 
Got  a  glass  ? 

Wyke. 
Yes,  sir.       [Producing  ivine-glass  from  his  j^ocket, 
and  pouring  out  ivine.]      W^hat  ain't   missed  ain't 
mourned,  eh,  Master  Cis? 

Cis. 
[Offering  ^dnc]     Here  3'ou  are,  Beatie,  dear. 

Beatie. 
The  idea  of  such  a  thing !     I  couldn't ! 

Cis. 
Why  not  ? 

Beatie. 
If  I  merely  sipped  it  I  shouldn't  be  able  to  give 
you  your  music-lesson  properly.     Drink  it  yourself, 
you  dear,  thoughtful  boy. 


6  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Cis. 
I  sha'n't — it's  for  you. 

Beatie. 
I  can't  driuk  it  ! 

Cis. 
You  must. 

Beatie. 
I  won't ! 

Cis. 
You're  disagreeable ! 

Beatie. 

Not  half  so  disagreeable  as  you  are. 

{They  ivrangle.'\ 
Wyke. 

[Tb  himself,  watchwg  them.]  What  a  young 
gentleman  it  is  !  and  only  fourteen  !  Fourteen — he 
behaves  like  forty  !  [Cis  chokes  as  he  is  drinking  the 
wine ;  Beatie  pats  him  on  the  back.]  Why,  even 
Cook  has  made  a  'ash  of  everything  since  he's  been 

in  the  house,  and,   as   for  Popham !     [Seeing 

someone  approaching.]     Look  out.  Master  Cis  ! 

[Cis  return.^  to  the  piano,  Beatie  counting  as  he- 
fore.  Wyke  pretends  to  arrange  the  ivindow- 
curtains,  concealing  the  decaliter  behind  him.] 

Beatie. 
One  and  two — and  one  and  two — and  one,  etc. 

[Enter  Popham,  a  smart-looking  niaid-servant.'j 


THE  MAaiSTIiATE  7 

FOPHAM. 

Wyke,  Where's  the  port  ? 

Wyke. 

\  Vacant/ y.]     Port? 

POPHAM. 

Port  wine.     Missus  is  furious. 

Wyke. 
Port  ? 

PoPHAM. 

[Foindiuj  lo  (he  decaiUcr.l  Why  !  There  !  You're 
carrying  it  about  with  you  ! 

Wyke. 

Why,  so  I  am !  Carrying  it  about  with  me  ! 
Shows  what  a  sharp  eye  I  keep  on  the  guv'nor's 
wines.  Carrying  it  about  with  me  !  Missus  will 
be  amused.  [Goes aid.] 

PoPHAM. 

[Eying  Cis  and  Beatie.]  Tliere's  that  boy  witli 
her  again  !  Minx  !  Her  two  hours  was  up  long 
ago.  Why  doesn't  she  go  home  ?  Master  Cis,  I've 
got  a  message  for  you. 

Cis. 
[Rising  from  the  piano. '\     Forme,  Popham  ? 

PoPHAM. 

Yes,  sir.  [Quietly  to  him. ^^  The  message  is  from 
a  young  lady  who  up  to  last  Wednesday  was  all  in 
all  to  you.     Her  name  is  Em  mi  Popham. 


S  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Cis. 
lTr>/ing  In  get  aira>/.]     Oh,  go  along,  Popbam  ! 

POPHAM. 

[Holding  his  sleeve.]  Ah,  it  wasn't  "Go  along, 
Popham  "  till  that  music  girl  came  into  the  house. 
I  will  go  along,  but — cast  your  eye  over  this  before 
you  sleep  to-night.  \She  ta/ces  out  of  Jwr pocket  hmid- 
keivhief  a  piece  of  printed  paper  ivJiich  she  hands  Itiin 
between  her  finger  and  thumb.']  Part  of  a  story  in 
"  Bow  Bells,"  called  "  Jilted  ;  or.  Could  Blood 
Atone  ?  "  Wraj)  it  in  your  handkerchief — it  came 
round  the  butter. 

[She  goes  out ;  Cis  throws  the  paper  into  the  gi-ate.] 

Cis. 
Bother  the  girl !     Beatie,  she's  jealous  of  you  ! 

Beatie. 
A  parlor-maid  jealous  of  me — and  with  a  bit  of  a 
child  of  fourteen  ! 

Cis. 
I  may  be  only  fourteen,  but  I  feel  like  a  grown-up 
man  !  You're  only  sixteen — there's  not  much  differ- 
ence— and  if  you  will  only  wait  for  me,  I'll  soon 
catch  you  up  and  be  as  much  a  u)au  as  you  are  a 
woman.      ^yilI  you  wait  for  me,  Beatie? 

Beatie. 
I  can't — I'm  getting  older  every  minute  ! 

Cis. 
Oh,  I  wish  I  could  borrow  five  or  six  years  from 
somebody  ! 


THE  MAGISTRATE  9 

Beatie. 

Many    a    person  would    be    glad    to    lend    them. 
[ZyOtu»ry/y.J     And  oh,  I  wish  you  could  ! 

Cis. 

[Piif/iiig  his  arm  ronn'l  jirr.^    You  do  !    Why? 

]3e.\tie. 
Because  I — because 

Cis. 
[//i.ste/u'»7.]     Look  out !     Here's  the  mater  ! 

\T1iey  run  to  flv,  piauo,  he  resumes  playing,  and 
she  counting  a.s  before.'] 

Beatie. 
One  and  two— and  one — and  two,  etc. 

[Enter  Agatha  Posket,  a  handsome,  shouji/  looman,  of 
about  thirty-six,  loofdng  perhaps  younger.] 

Agatha  Posket. 

Why,  Cis,  child,  at  your  music  again? 

Crs. 

Yes,  ma,  always  at  if.     Y'ou'll   spoil  my  taste  by 
forcing  it  if  you're  not  careful. 

Agatha  Pocket. 
We  have  no  right  to  keep  Miss  Tomlinson  so  late. 

Beatie. 

Oh,    thank   you,    it    doesn't    matter.       I — I — am 
afraid  we're  not  making — very — great — progress. 


10  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Cis. 

\Winking  at  Beatie.]  Well,  if  I  j^lay  that  again, 
will  vou  kiss  me  ? 

Beatie. 

[Demurely  ]  I  don't  know,  I'm  Hure.  [2V>  Agatha 
PosKET.]     May  I  iDi'omise  that,  ma'am  ? 

[SdH  in  the  ivindoiv  recesH.     Cis  Joining  her,  puis 
his  arm  round  lier  ivaint.^ 

Agatha  Poseet. 

No,  certainly  not.  \To  herself,  watching  them.^ 
If  I  only  could  persuade  ^neas  to  dismiss  this  p?'o- 
thgee  of  his,  and  to  engage  a  music-master,  it  would 
ease  my  conscience  a  little.  If  this  girl  knew  the 
truth,  how  indignant  she  would  be  !  And  then  there 
is  the  injustice  to  the  boy  himself,  and  to  my  hus- 
band's friends,  who  are  always  petting  and  fondling 
and  caressing  what  they  call  '•  a  fine  little  man  of 
fourteen  !  "  Fourteen  !  Oh,  what  an  idiot  I  have 
been  to  conceal  my  child's  real  age  !  \_Looking  at  tJie 
dock:  ]  Charlotte  is  late  ;  I  wish  she  would  come. 
It  will  be  a  relief  to  worry  her  with  my  troubles. 

jNTr.   Posket. 

[TalHng  ontside.]  We  smoke  all  over  the  house, 
BuUani}',  all  over  the  house. 

Agatha  Posket. 

I  will  speak  to  ^Eneas  about  this  little  girl,  at  any 
rate. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  11 

[Enter  Mr.  Posket,  a  mild  gentleman  of  about  fifty, 
Hmulcing  a  cigarette,  followed  by  Mr.  Bullamy, 
a  fat,  red  faced  man  with  a  bronchial  cough  and 
general  huskiness.'] 

Mr.   Posket. 
Smoke  anywhere,  Bullamj- — smoke  anywhere. 

Mr.    Bull.uiy. 
Not  with  my  bronchitis,  thank  ye. 

Mr.   Posket. 
[Beaming  at  Agatha  Posket.]     Ah,  my  darhng  ! 

Mr.  Bullamy. 

[Producing  a  t^mall  box  from  his  ivaistcoaf  pocket.'^ 
All  I  take  after  dinner  is  a  jujube — sometimes  two. 
[Offering  the  bo.r.]     May  I  tempt  Mrs.  Posket? 

AfiATHA  Posket. 

No,  thank  you.  [Treading  on  one  of  the  nuts  which 
have  been  scattered  over  tJie  room.]  How  provoking — 
who  brings  nuts  into  the  drawing-room  ? 

Mr.  Posket. 

Miss  Tomlinson  still  here  ?  [To  Beatie.]  Don't 
go,  don't  go.  Glad  to  see  Cis  so  fond  of  his  music. 
Your  sister  Charlotte  is  behind  her  time,  my  darling. 

Agatha  Posket. 
Her  train  is  delayed,  I  suppose. 

Mr.  Posket. 
You  must  stay  and  see  ray  sister-in-law,  Bullamy. 


12  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Mr.   Bulla:siv. 
Pleasure — pleasure  ! 

Mr.   Posket. 

[  have  never  met  her  yet ;  we  will  share  first  im- 
pression.s.  In  the  interim,  will  Mi.ss  Tomlin.son  de- 
light us  with  a  little  niu.sic? 

Mr.  Bulla:\iy. 

[Bustli/u/  up  It)  the  piano.  |  If  this  young  lady  is 
going  to  sing  she  might  like  one  of  my  jujubes. 

[Beatie  sils  at  the  piano,  icilh  Cis  and  Mr  Bul- 
LAMY  on  each  side  of  Jier.  Mr.  Posket  ireadu 
on  a  nut  as  he  walks  over  to  It  is  wife.] 

Mr.   Posket. 

Dear  me — how  come  nuts  into  the  drawing-room  ? 
[To  Agatha  Posket.]  Of  what  is  my  darling  think- 
ing of  so  deeply?  [7rmd.-i  ou  anotlwr  »///.]  An- 
other !  My  pet,  there  are  nuts  on  the  drawing-room 
carpet ! 

Agatha   Posket. 

Yes.    I  want  to  speak  to  you,  ^-Eneas. 

Mr.  Posket. 
About  the  nuts? 

Aga'i'ha  Posket. 
No — about  Miss  Tomlinson — your  \\ii\Q  protegee. 

Mr.  Posket. 
Ah,  nice  little  thing. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  13 

Agatha  Posket. 

Very.  But  not  old  enough  to  exert  any  decided 
influence  over  the  boy's  musical  future.  Why  not 
engage  a  master  ? 

Mi;.  Posket. 
"What,  for  a  mere  child  ? 

A(tAtha  Posket. 
A  mere  child— oh  ! 

Mil.  Posket. 
A  boy  of  fourteen  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 
[To  her.-ielf.]     Fourteen  ! 

IMk.  Posket. 

A  boy  of  fourteen,  not  yet  out  of  Czerny's  exer- 
cises. 

Agatha  Poskkt. 

[To  ]u'r.<t-Jf.\  If  we  were  alone  now,  I  might  have 
the  desperation  to  tell  him  all ! 

Mr,  PosKE'i'. 

Besides,  my  darling,  you  know  tlie  interest  I  take 
in  Miss  Toralinson  ;  she  is  one  of  the  brightest  little 
spots  on  my  hobby-horse.  Like  all  our  servants, 
like  everybody  in  ray  employ,  she  has  been  brought 
to  my  notice  through  the  unhappy  medium  of  the 
Police  Court  over  which  it  is  my  destiny  to  preside. 
Our  servant,  Wyke,  a  man  with  a  beautiful  nature, 
is  the   son  of  a  j^erson  I  committed  for  trial   for 


14  THE  MAGISTRATE 

marrying  three  wives.  To  this  day  Wyke  is  igno- 
rant as  to  which  of  those  three  wives  he  is  the  son 
of  !  Cook  was  once  a  notorious  dipsomaniac,  and 
has  even  now  not  entirely  freed  herself  from  early 
influences.  Popham  is  the  unclaimed  charge  of  a 
convicted  baby-farmer.  Even  our  milkman  came 
before  me  as  a  man  who  had  refused  to  submit 
specimens  to  the  analytic  inspector.  And  this  poor 
child,  what  is  she  ? 

Agatha  Posket. 
Yes,  I  know. 

Mr.  Posket. 

The  daughter  of  a  superannuated  General,  who 
abstracted  four  silk  umbrellas  from  the  Army  and 
Navy  Stores — and  on  a  tine  day  too  ! 

[Beatie  ceases  playing.'] 

Mr.    Bull.\my. 
Very  good — very  good  ! 

Mr.  Posket. 
Thank  you — thank  you  ! 

Mk.  Bullamy. 

[7b  Mr.  Posket,  coughing  and  laugldng  and  pop- 
ping a  jujube  into  /tw  mouth.']  My  dear  Posket,  I 
really  must  congratulate  you  on  that  boy  of  yours — 
your  stepson.  A  most  wonderful  lad.  So  confound- 
edly advanced,  too. 

Mr.  Posket. 
Yes,  isn't  he  ?    Eh  ! 


THE  MAGISTRATE  15 

Mr.  BuLLAivrr. 

[Confidentially.^  While  the  piano  was  going  on 
just  now,  be  told  me  one  of  the  most  humorous  sto- 
ries I've  ever  heard.  [Laughing  Jieartily  and  panting, 
then  taking  another  jujube.^  Ha,  ha,  bless  me,  I  don't 
know  when  I  have  taken  so  many  jujubes! 

Mr.  Posket. 

My  dear  Bullaray,  my  entire  marriage  is  the  great- 
est possible  success.  A  little  romantic,  too.  [Point- 
ing to  Agatha  Posket.]     Beautiful  woman  ! 

Mr.    Bullaimy. 

Very,  very.  I  never  committed  a  more  stylish, 
elegant  creature. 

Mr.  Posket. 

Thank  you,  Bullamy — we  met  abroad,  at  Spa, 
when  I  was  on  my  holiday. 

[Wyke  enters  icith  tea-tray,  luhich  he  hands  round.] 

Mr.    Bullamy. 
I  shall  go  there  next  year. 

Mr.  Posket. 

She  lost  her  first  husband  about  twelve  months 
ago  in  India.     He  was  an  army  contractor. 

Beatie. 

[To  Crs  at  the  piano.]  I  must  go  now — there's  no 
excuse  for  staying  any  longer. 


16  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Crs. 

[2b  her,  disconsolafelij  ]  What  the  deuce  shall  / 
do? 

Mr.  Posket. 

[Pouring  out  milk.']  Dear  nie,  this  milk  seems 
very  poor.  When  he  died,  slie  came  to  England, 
placed  her  boy  at  a  school  in  Brighton,  and  then 
moved  about  quietly  from  place  to  place,  drink- 
ing   [Si2JS  tea.] 

Mr.    Bullamy. 

Drinking  ? 

Mr.  Posket. 

The  waters — she's  a  little  dyspeptic.  [W^yke  goes 
out.]  We  encountered  each  other  at  the  Toius  dcs 
Fontaines — by  accident  I  trod  upon  her  dress 

Beatie. 
Good-uiglit,  Cis,  dear. 

Cis. 
Oh! 

Mr.  Posket. 

[Continuing,  to  Mr.  Bullamy.]    I  apologized.     W^e 

talked  about  the  weather,  we  drank  out  of  the  same 

glass,  discovered   that  we  both   suffered  from    the 

same  ailment,  and  the  result  is  complete  hap})iness. 

[He  benJ.^  over  Agatha  Posket  gallanllt/.] 

AcxATHA  Posket. 
iEneas  ! 

[He  kiitses  Iter,  fJten  Cis  /"/.s-sp^  Beatie,  loudly  ; 
Mr.  Posket  and  Mr.  Bullamy  both  listen, 
puzzled.] 


THE  MAOmTIlATE  17 

Mk.  Posket. 
Echo? 

Mr.    BuLiAMY. 

Suppose  so  ! 

[He  l-ii^ses  the  back  of  his  hand  experimentally  ; 
Beatie  kisses  Crs,] 

Mr.  Bullamy. 
Yes. 

jMr.  Posket. 

Curious.  [To  Mr.  Bellamy.]  Romantic  story, 
isn't  it  ? 

Beatie. 

Good-night,  Mrs.  Posket !  I  shall  be  here  early 
to-morrow  morning. 

Agatha  Posket. 
I  am  afraid  you  are  neglecting  your  other  pupils. 

Beatie. 

Oh,  they're  not  so  interesting  as  Cis — [correcting 
herself]  Master  Farringdon.     Good-night. 

Agatha  Posket, 

Good-night,  dear. 

[Beatie  goes  out  (jiiieth/ ;   Agatha  Vohket  joins 
Cis.] 

Mr.   Posket. 

[To  Mr.  Bullamy.]  We  were  married  abroad 
without  consulting  friends  or  relations  on  either 
side.  That's  how  it  is  I  have  never  seen  m}'  sister- 
in-law,  Miss  Verrinder,  who  is  coming  from  Shrop- 
shire to  stav  with  us — she  ou^ht  to 


18  THE  MAGISTRATE 

[Wyke  enters.'] 

Wyke. 
Miss  Verrinder  has  come,  ma'am. 

]\Ir.  Posket. 
Here  she  is. 

Agatha  Posket. 
Charlotte  ? 

[Charlotte,  a  fine,  Jiamhome  girl,  enters,  followed  by 
PoPHAM,  with  hand  luggage.] 

Agatha  Posket. 
[Kissing  her.\     My  clear  Charley. 

[Wyke  goes  out.] 
Chaklotte. 
Aggy,  darling,  aren't  I  late  !     There's  a  fog  on  the 
line — you  could  cut  it  with  a  knife.     [Seeing  Cis.] 
Is  that  your  boy  ? 

Agatha  Posket. 
Yes. 

Charlotte. 
Good  gracious !      What  is  he  doing  in  an  Eton 
jacket  at  his  age  ? 

Agatha  Posket. 

[Softlj/,  to   Charlotte  ]     Hush  !  don't   say  a  word 
about  my  boy's  age  yet  awhile. 

Charlotte. 
Oh! 

Agatha  Posket. 
[About   to   introduce  Mr.  Posket.]     There  is  my 
husband. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  19 

Ch.iklotte. 

[MlKtakinfi  Mr.  Bullaiviy /or /ii?n.]  Ob  !  how  could 
r.lie  !  \_To  Mr.  Bullamy,  turning  her  cheek  to  him.^  I 
congratulate  you — I  suppose  you  ought  to  kiss  me. 

Agatha  Fosket. 
No,  uo ! 

Mr.  Posket. 
Welcome  to  my  house,  Miss  Verrinder. 

Charlotte. 
Oh.  I  beg  your  pardon.     How  do  you  do? 

Mr.  Bullamy. 
\Tohimself.^    Mrs.  Posket's  an  interfering  woman. 

]Mr.  Posket. 

[Pointing  to  ]\1r.  Bullamy.J     Mr.  Bullamy. 

[Mr.  Bull.\my,  aggrieved,  Ijoios  stiffly.^ 

Agatha  Posket. 

[To  Charlotte.]  Come  up-stairs,  dear  ;  will  you 
have  some  tea? 

Charlotte. 

No,  thank  you,  pet,  but  I  should  like  a  glass  of 
soda-water. 

AciATHA  Posket. 
Soda-water ! 


20  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Charlotte. 

"Well,  dear,  you  can  put  what  you  like  at  the  bot- 
tom of  it. 

[Agatha  Posket  and  Charlotte  go  out,  Popham 
followhuj.'] 

PoPHA:\r. 

[To  Cis.]  Give  me  back  my  "Bow  Bells,"  when 
you  have  read  it,  you  imp.  \_Goes  out.'] 

Cis. 
By  Jove,  Guv,  isn't  Aunt  Charlotte  a  stunner  ? 

.    Mr.  Posket. 
Seems  a  charming  woman. 

]\Ir.  Bullamy. 

Posket's  got  the  wrong  one  !  That  comes  of 
marrying  without  tirst  seeing  the  lady's  relations. 

Cis. 

Come  along,  Guv — let's  have  a  gamble — Mr.  Bul- 
lamy  will  join  us. 

\()pens  the  card-table,  a,rranges  chairs  and  can- 
dles.] 

]Mr.  Bullamy. 
A  gamble  ? 

Mr.  Posket. 

Yes — the  boy  has  taught  me  a  new  game  called 
"Fireworks  ;"  his  mother  isn't  aware  that  we  play 
for  money,  of  course,  but  we  do. 


THE  MAG  1ST  HATE  21 

Mr.  Bullamy. 
Ha,  ha,  lia !     Who  wins  ? 

Mr.  Posket. 

He  does  now — hut  he  says  I  shall  win  when  I  know 
the  game  better. 

]\Ir.  Bullamy. 
What  a  boy  he  is  ! 

Mr.   Posket. 

Isn't  he  a  wontlerful  lad  ?  And  only  fourteen,  too. 
I'll  tell  you  something  else — perhaps  you  had  better 
not  mention  it  to  his  mother. 

Mr.  Bullamy. 
No,  no,  certainly  not. 

]Mr.  Posket. 
He's  invested  a  little  moue}^  for  me. 

Mr.  Bullahiy. 
What  in  ? 

Mr.  Posket. 

Not  in — on — on  Sillikin  for  the  Lincolnshire 
Handicap.  Sillikin  to  win  and  Butterscotch  one, 
two,  three. 

Mr.  Bullamy. 
Good  Lord ! 

jMr.   Posket. 

Yes,  the  dear  boy  said,  "  Guv,  it  isn't  fair  you 
should   give  me  all   the  tips,  I'll  give  you  some  " — 


22  THE  MAGLSTRATE 

and  lie  ditl — lie  gave  me  Sillikin  and  Batterscotcli. 
Hf'll  manage  it  for  you,  if  you  like.  "Plank  it 
dowu,"  he  calls  it. 

Mr.  Bulla^my. 

[Chuckling  and  choLing.]  Ha!  ha!  Ho!  lio ! 
[_Taki)ig  a  Jujube.]     This  boy  will  ruin  me  in  jujubes. 

Cis. 

All  ready  !  Look  sharp !  Guv,  lend  me  a  sov  to 
start  with  V 

Mr.   Posket. 

A  sov  to  start  with?  [Theij  sit  at  the  fable. 
Agatha  Posket  and  Charlotte  come  into  the  room.] 
We  didn't  think  you  would  return  so  soon,  my 
darling. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Go  on  amusing  yourselves,  I  insist,  only  don't 
teach  my  Cis  to  play  cai'ds. 

Mr.   Bullamy. 
Ho  !  ho ! 

Mr.  Posket. 
[To  Mr.  Bullamy.]     Hush  !     Hush  I 

Agatha  Posket. 

\To  Charlotte.]  I'm  glad  of  this — we  can  tell  each 
other  our   miseries  undisturbed.     Will  you  begin  ? 

Charlotte. 

Well,  at  last  I  am  engaged  to  Captain  Horace 
Vale. 


THE    M.iLri^iliATE  23 

Agatha  Posket. 
Oh  !  Charley,  I'm  so  glad ! 

Charlotte. 

Yes — so  is  he — he  s;iys.  He  proposed  to  me  at 
the  Hunt  ball — in  the  passage — Tuesday  week. 

Agatha  Posket. 
What  did  he  say  ? 

Charlotte. 
He  said,  "  By  Jove,  I  love  you  awfully." 

Agatha  Posket. 
Well — and  what  did  you  say  ? 

Charlotte. 

Oh,  I  said,  "Well,  if  you  are  going  to  be  as  elo- 
quent as  all  that,  by  Jove,  I  can't  stand  out."  So  we 
settled  it  in  the  passage.  He  bars  tlirting  till  after 
we're  married.     That's  my  misery.     What's  yours, 

Aggy? 

Agatha  Posket. 

Something  awful ! 

Charlotte. 
Cheer  up,  Aggy  !     What  is  it  ? 

Ag.\tha  Posket. 
Well,  Charley,  you  know  I  lost  my  poor  dear  first 
husband  at  a  very  delicate  age. 

Charlotte. 
Well,  you  w^ere  tive-and-thirty,  dear. 


2 J:  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Agatha  Posket. 

Yes,  that's  what  I  mean.  Five -and -thirty  is  a 
very  delicate'  age  to  tind  yourself  single.  You're 
neither  one  thing  nor  the  otlier.  You're  not  exactly 
a  two-year-old,  and  you  don't  care  to  pull  a  hansom. 
However,  I  soon  met  Mr.  Posket  at  Spa — bless  him  ! 

Chaelotte. 

And  you  nominated  yourself  for  the  Matrimonial 
Stakes.  Mr.  Farringdon's  The  Widow,  by  Bereave- 
ment, put  of  Mourning,  ten  pounds  extra. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Y'es,  Charley,  and  in  less  than  a  month  I  went 
triumphantly  over  the  course.  But,  Charley,  dear,  I 
didn't  carry  the  fair  weight  for  age — and  that's  my 
trouble. 

Charlotte. 
Oh,  dear ! 

Agatha  Posket. 

Undervaluing  .Sineas'  love,  in  a  moment  of,  I  hope 
not  unjustifiable,  vanity,  I  took  five  years  from  my 
total,  which  made  me  thirty-one  on  my  wedding 
morning. 

Charlotte. 

Well,  dear,  many  a  misguided  woman  has  done 
that  before  you. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Yes,  Charley,  but  don't  you  see  the  consequences? 
It  has  thrown  everything  out.  As  I  am  now  thirty- 
one,  instead  of  thirty- six  as  I  ought  to  be,  it  stands 


THE  MA(USTIlATh]  25 

to  reason  that  I  couldn't  have  been  married  twenty 
year  n^o,  which  I  was.  So  I  have  had  to  fib  iii 
proportion. 

Chaklotte. 

I  see — making  your  first  marriage  occur  only  fif- 
teen years  ago. 

Agatha  Posket. 
Exactly. 

Charlotte. 

Well,  then,  dear,  why  worry  yourself  further  ? 

Agatha  Posket. 

Why,  dear,  don't  you  see  ?  If  I  am  only  thirty- 
one  now,  my  boy  couldn't  have  been  born  nineteen 
years  ago,  and  if  he  could,  he  oughtn't  to  have  been, 
because,  on  my  own  showing,  I  wasn't  married  till 
four  years  later.     Now  you  see  the  result ! 

Charlotte. 

Which  is,  that  that  tine  strapping  young  gentle- 
man over  there  is  only  fourteen. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Precisely.  Isn't  it  awkward  !  and  his  mustache  is 
becoming  more  and  more  obvious  every  day. 

Charlotte. 
What  does  the  boy  himself  believe  ? 

Agatha  Posket. 

He  believes  his  mother,  of  course,  as  a  boy  should. 
As  a  prudent  woman,  I  always  kept  him  in  ignorance 
of  his  age — in  case  of  necessity.     But  it  is  terribly 


20  THE  MAGISTRATE 

bard  on  tlie  \)ooy  cLikl,  because  his  aims,  instincts, 
and  ambitious  are  all  so  horribly  in  advance  of  his 
condition.  His  food,  his  books,  his  amusements  are 
out  of  keeping  with  his  palate,  his  brain,  and  his 
disposition  ;  and  with  all  this  suffering — his  wretched 
mother  has  the  remorseful  consciousness  of  having 
shortened  her  offspring's  life. 

Charlotte. 
Oh,  come,  you  haven't  quite  done  that. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Yes,  I  have— because,  if  he  lives  to  be  a  hundred, 
he  must  be  buried  at  ninetj^-five. 

Charlotte. 
That's  true. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Then,  there's  another  aspect.  He's  a  great  favor- 
ite with  all  our  friends — women  friends  especialh\ 
Even  his  little  music  mistress  and  the  girl-servants 
hug  and  kiss  him  because  he's  such  an  engaging 
boy,  and  I  can't  stop  it.  But  it's  very  awful  to  see 
these  innocent  women  fondling  a  young  man  of 
nineteen. 

Charlotte. 

The  women  don't  know  it. 

Agatha  Posket. 

But  they'd  like  to  know  it.  I  mean  they  ought 
to  know  it !  The  other  day  I  found  my  poor  boy 
sitting  on  Lady  Jenkins'  laj?,  and  in  the  presence  of 
Sir  George.     I  have  no  right  to  compromise  Lady 


THE  MAGISTRATE  27 

Jenkins  in  that  way.  And  now,  Charley,  you  see 
the  whirlpool  in  wliich  I  am  struggling — if  you  can 
throw  nie  a  rope,  pray  do. 

Charlotte. 
What  sort  of  a  man  is  Mr.  Posket,  Aggy  ? 

Agatha  Posket. 

The  best  creature  in  the  world.     He's  a  practical 

philanthropist. 

Charlotte. 
Um — he's  a  Police  Magistrate,  too,  isn't  he  ? 

Agatha  Posket. 

Yes,  but  he  pays  out  of  his  own  pocket  half  the 
fines  he  inflicts.  That's  why  he  has  had  a  reprimand 
from  the  Home  Office  for  inflicting  such  light  pen- 
alties. All  our  servants  have  graduated  at  Mulberry 
Street.  Most  of  the  pictures  in  the  dining-room  are 
genuine  Constables. 

Charlotte. 
Take  my  advice — tell  him  the  whole  story. 

Agatha  Posket. 
I  dare  not ! 

Ch.\rlotte. 
Why  ? 

Ag.\tha  Posket. 

I  should  have  to  take  such  a  back  seat  for  the  rest 
of  my  married  life. 

[The  parly  at  the  card-table  breaks  np^ 


28  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Mr.  Bullamy. 

\^Grnmphj.'\  No,  thank  you,  not  another  minute. 
[To  Mk.  Posket.]  What  is  the  use  of  talking  about 
revenge,  my  clear  Posket,  Avhen  I  haven't  a  penny 
piece  left  to  play  with  ? 

Mr.  Posket. 

I'm  in  the  same  predicament !  Cis  will  lend  us 
some  money,  won't  you  Cis. 

Cis. 
Rather ! 

Mr.  Bullamy, 

No,  thank  ye  ;  that  boy  is  one  too  many  for  me. 
I've  never  met  such  a  child.  Good-night,  Mrs.  Pos- 
ket.    [Treads  on  a  nut. ^   Confound  the  nuts  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 

Going  so  early? 

Cis. 

\To  Mr.  Posket.]  I  hate  a  bad  loser,  don't  you, 
Guv? 

Agatha  Posket. 
Show  Mr.  Bullamy  down-stairs,  Cis. 

Mr.   Bullamy, 

Good-night,  Posket.  Oh  !  I  haven't  a  shilling 
left  for  my  cabman. 

Cis. 
I'll  pay  the  cab. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  29 

]V[r.    Bullamy. 

No,  tbankyou!  I'll  walk.  \Opridnrf  jnjabe  bo.r.'\ 
Bah  !  Not  even  a  jujube  left  and  on  a  fof?gy  night, 
too !     Ug-h  !  yOoes  out.] 

[Enter  Wyke  with  four  letters  on  salve7'.^ 

Cis. 
[To  Wyke.]    Any  for  me  ? 

Wyke. 
One,  sir. 

Cis. 

[7b  himself.]  From  Acbille  Blond  ;  lucky  the 
mater  didn't  see  it.  [Goes  out.] 

[Wyke  hands  letters  to  Agatha  Posket,  ivho  takes 
two,  then  to  Mr.  Posket,  ivho  takes  one.] 

Agatha  Posket. 

This  is  for  you,  Charley — already. 

[Wyke  goes  out.] 
Charlotte. 

Spare  my  blushes,  dear — it's  from  Horace,  Cap- 
tain Vale.  The  dear  wretch  knew  I  was  coming  to 
you.     Heigho  !     Will  you  excuse  me  ? 

Mr.   Posket. 
Certainly. 

Agatha  Posket. 
Excuse  me,  please  ? 

Chaelotte. 
Certainly,  my  dear. 


30  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Mr.   Pgsket. 
Certainly,  my  darling.     Excuse  me,  won't  you? 

ClIAKLOTTE. 

Ob,  certainly. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Certainly,  ^ueas. 

[Simultaneoush/  the;/  all   open   their  letters  and 
lean  back  and  read.\ 

Agatha  Posket, 
[Reading.']  Lady  Jenkins  is  not  feeling  very  well. 

Charlotte. 

If  Captain  Horace  Vale  stood  before  me  at  this 
moment,  I'd  slap  bis  face  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 
Charlotte  ! 

Charlotte. 

{Reading.]  "Dear  Miss  Verrinder,  your  desper- 
ate flirtation  with  Major  Bristow  at  the  Meet  on 
Tuesday  last,  three  days  after  our  eng-agement,  has 
just  come  to  my  knowledge.  Your  letters  and  gifts, 
including  the  gold- beaded  hair-pin  given  me  at  the 
Hunt  ball,  shall  be  returned  to-morrow.  By  Jove, 
all  is  over  !     Horace  Vale."    Ob,  dear  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 

Oh,  Charley,  I'm  so  sorry !  However,  you  can 
deny  it. 


THE  MAGISTRATM  31 

Charlotte. 
[  Weeping.']     That's  the  worst  of  it,  I  cau't. 

Mr    Posket. 

[To  Agatha  Posket.]  My  darling,  you  will  be  de- 
lighted.    A  note  froiLi  Colonel  Lukyn. 

Agatha  Posket. 
Lukyn — Lukyn  ?     I  seem  to  know  the  name. 

Mr.   Posket. 

An  old  schoolfellow  of  mine  who  went  to  India 
many  years  ago.  He  has  just  come  home.  I  met 
him  at  the  club  last  night  and  asked  him  to  name  an 
evening  to  dine  with  us.    He  accepts  for  to-morrow. 

Agatha   Posket. 
Lukyn,  Lukyn? 

j\[n.   Posket. 

Listen.  \_Pi<'adin(i.']  "It  will  be  especially  delight- 
ful to  me,  as  I  believe  I  am  an  old  friend  of  your 
wife  and  of  her  first  husband.  You  may  recall  me 
to  her  recollection  by  reminding  her  that  I  am  the 
Captain  Lukyn  who  stood  sponsor  to  her  boy  when 
he  was  christened  at  Baroda." 

Agatha  Posket. 
[Giving  a  loud  scream.\     Oh! 

Mr.   Posket. 
My  dear ! 

Agatha  Posket, 
I've  twisted  my  foot. 


32  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Mr.  Posket. 
How  do  nuts  come  into  the  drawing  room? 

Charlotte. 
[Quielly,  to  Agatha  Posket.]     Aggy? 

Agatha  Posket. 
[Jo  Charlotte.]  The  boy's  god-father. 

Charlotte. 
When  was  the  child  christened  ? 

Agatha  Posket. 
A  month  after  he  was  born.     They  always  are. 

Mr.  Posket. 
[Read/'ng  ihe  letter  again.]     Tliis  is  very  pleasant. 

Agatha  Posket. 

[To  Mr.  Posket.]  Let — let  me  see  the  letter,  I — I 
may  recognize  the  handwriting. 

Mr.    Posket. 

[Handing  her  the  letter.']  Certainly,  my  pet.  [To 
himself.]  Awakened  memories  of  Number  One. 
That's  the  worst  of  marrying  a  widow  ;  somebody  is 
always  proving  her  previous  convictions. 

Agatha  Posket. 

[To  Charlotte.]  "  No.  19a  Cork  Street !  "  Charley, 
put  on  your  things  and  come  with  me. 

Charlotte. 
Agatha,  you're  mad ! 


THE  MAGISTRATE  33 

Agatha  Posket. 

I'm  going  to  sliut  this  man's  mouth  before  lie 
comes  into  this  house  to-moiTow. 

Charlotte. 
Wait  till  he  comes. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Yes,  till  he  stalks  in  here  with  his  "How  d'j'e  do, 
Posket?  Haven't  seen  your  wife  since  the  year  '66, 
by  Gad,  sir !  "     Not  I !     J^neas  ! 

Mr.  Posket. 
My  dear. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Lady  Jenkins— Adelaide — is  very  ill  ;  she  can't 
put  her  foot  to  the  ground  with  neuralgia. 

[^Taking  the  letter  from  her  jMcket  and  giving  it 
to  /u'/».] 

Mr.   Posket. 
Bless  me  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 
We  have  known  each  other  for  six  long  years. 

Mr.  Posket. 
Only  six  weeks,  my  love. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Weeks  are  years  in  close  friendship.  My  place  is 
by  her  side. 


84  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Mr.  Posket. 

\Readinri  tlie  letter^  "  Sliglitlv  indisposed,  caught 
trilling  cold  at  the  Dog  Show.  Where  do  you  buy 
your  handkerchiefs?"  Tliere's  nothing  about  neu- 
ralgia or  putting  her  foot  to  the  ground  here,  my 
darling. 

Agatha  Posket. 

No,  but  can't  jon  read  between  the  lines,  iEneas? 
That  is  the  letter  of  a  woman  who  is  not  at  all 
well. 

Mr,  Posket. 

All  right,  my  darling,  if  you  are  bent  upon  going 
I  will  accompany  you. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Certainly  not,  ^neas — Charlotte  insists  on  being 
my  companion  ;  we  can  keep  each  other  warm  in  a 
closed  cab. 

Mr.  Posket. 

But  can't  I  make  a  third  ? 

Agatha  Posket. 

Don't  be  so  forgetful,  ^Eneas — don't  you  know 
that  in  a  foui'- wheeled  cnl.)  the  fewer  knees  there  are 
the  better.   [Agatha  Posket  and  Charlotte  go  out.^ 

[Cis  comes  hi  liurriedly.^ 

Cis. 
Wliat's  the  matter,  Guv  ? 

Mr.    Pt)SKET. 

Your  mother  and  INIiss  Yerrinder  are  going  out. 


'itxhj  MAGISTRATE  35 

Cis. 
Out  of  their  minds?     It's  a  horrid  night. 

Mr.  Posket. 
Yes,  bat  Lady  Jenkins  is  ill. 

Cis. 
Oh  !     Is  ma  mentioned  in  the  will  ? 

Mr.  Posket. 
Good    gracious,    what    a    boy  !      No,  Cis,    your 
mother  is  merely  going  to  sit  by  Lady  Jenkins'  bed- 
side, to  hold  her  hand,  and  to  tell  her  where  one 
goes  to— to  buy  pocket-handkerchiefs. 

Cis. 
By  Jove  !     The   mater  can't  be  home  again  till 
half-past  twelve  or  one  o'clock. 

Mr.  Posket. 
Much  later  if  Lady  Jenkins'  condition  is  alarm- 
ing. 

Cis. 
Hurray  !     [He  takes  the  watch  oat  of  Mr.  Posket's 
pocket.']     Just  half-past  ten.     Greenwich  mean,  eh, 
Guv? 

[He  puts  the  watch  to  his  ear,  pulling  Mr.  Posket 
toward  him  by  the  chain.J 

Mr.  Posket. 
What  an  extraordinary  lad  ! 

Cis. 
[Returning  xoatch.]     Thanks.     They  have  to  get 
from  here  to  Campden  Hill  and  back  again.     I'll  tell 
Wyke  to  get  them  the  worst  horse  on  the  rank. 


36  THE  MAGISTRATE 

]Mr.   Posket. 
My  dear  child  ! 

Cis. 

Three-quarters  of  an  hour's  journey  from  here  at 
least.  Twice  three-quarters,  one  hour  and  a  half. 
An  hour  with  Lady  Jenkins — when  women  get  to- 
gether, you  know,  Gliv,  they  do  talk — that's  two 
hours  and  a  half.  Good.  Gov,  will  you  come  with 
me  ? 

Mr.  Posket. 

Go  with  you  !     ^Yhere  ? 

Cis. 

Hotel  des  Princes,  Meek  Street.  A  sharp  hansom 
does  it  in  ten  minutes. 

Mr.  Posket. 

Meek  Street,  Hotel  des  Princes!  Child,  do  you 
know  what  you're  talking  about? 

Cis. 

Rather.  Look  here,  (luv,  honor  bright — no  blab 
if  I  show  you  a  letter. 

Mr.  Posket. 
I  won't  promise  anything. 

Cis. 

You  won't!  Do  you  know,  Guv,  you  are  doing  a 
very  unwise  thing  to  check  the  confidence  of  a  lad 
like  me  ? 

Mr.  Posket. 

Cis,  my  boy ! 


THE  MAGISTRATE  37 

Cis. 

Can  you  calculate  the  inestimable  benefit  it  is  to  a 
youngster  to  have  someone  always  at  his  elbow, 
someone  older,  wiser,  and  better  off  than  himself? 

Mr.  Posket. 

Of  course,  Cis,  of  course,  I  xoant  you  to  make  a 
companion  of  me. 

Cis. 

Then  iiow  the  deuce  can  I  do  that  if  you  won't 
come  with  me  to  J\leek  Street  ? 


Mr.   Posket. 
Yes,  but  deceiving  your  mother  ! 

Cis. 

Deceiving  the  mater  would  be  to  tell  her  a  cram- 
mer— a  thing,  I  hope,  we're  both  of  us  much  above. 

Mr.  Posket. 
Good  boy,  good  boy. 

Cis. 
Concealing  the  fact  that  we're  going  to  have  a  bit 
of  supper  at  the  Hotel  des  Princes  is  doing  my 
mother  a  great  kindness,  because  it  woiald  upset  her 
considerably  to  know  of  the  circumstances.  You've 
been  wrong.  Guv,  but  we  won't  say  anything  more 
about  that.     Read  the  letter. 

[^Gives  Mr.  Posket  tlie  letter.] 

Mr.  Posket. 

\Iteading  in  a  dazed  sort  of  a  looi/.]   "Hotel  des 
Princes,  Meek  Street,  W.     Dear  Sir — Unless   you 


38  THE  MAOTSTRATE 

drop  in  and  settle  your  arrears,  I  really  cannot  keep 
your  room  for  you  any  longer.  Youi'S  obediently, 
Acbille  Blond.  Cecil  Farringdon,  Esq."  Good 
Leavens  !     You  have  a  room  at  the  Hotel  des  Princes  ! 

Cis. 
A  room  !     It's  little  better  than  a  coop. 

Mr.  Posket. 
You  don't  occupy  it  ? 

Crs. 
But  my  friends  do.  When  I  was  at  Brighton  I 
was  in  with  the  best  set — hope  I  always  shall  be.  I 
left  Brighton — nice  hole  I  was  in.  You  see,  Guv, 
I  didn't  want  my  friends  to  make  free  with  your 
house. 

Mr.  Posket. 
Oh,  didn't  you  ? 

Cis. 
So  I  took  a  room  at  the  Hotel  des  Princes — when 
I  want  to  put  a  man  up  he  goes  there.     You  see,  Guv, 
it's  you  I've  been  considering  more  than  mj'self. 

Mr.  Posket. 
But  you  are  a  mere  child. 

Cis. 
A  fellow  is  just  as  old  as  he  feels.     I  feel  no  end  of 
a  man.     Hush,  they're  coming  down  !   I'm  off  to  tell 
Wyke  about  the  rickety  four-wheeler. 

Mr.    Posket. 
Cis,  Cis !     Your  mother  will  discover  I  have  been 
out. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  30 

Cis. 
Oil,  I  forgot ;  you're  married,  aren't  you  ? 

Mr.    Posket. 
Married  ! 

Cis. 
Say  you  are  going  to  the  club. 

j\Ir.    Posket. 
But  that's  not  the  truth,  sir! 

Crs. 
Yes,  it  is.     We'll  pop  in  at  the  club  on  our  way, 
and  you  can  give  me  a  bitters.  \^Goes  o(//.] 

Mr.  Posket. 
Good  gracious,  what  a  boy  !  Hotel  des  Princes, 
Meek  Street!  What  shall  I  do  ?  Tell  his  mother? 
Why,  it  would  turn  her  hair  gray.  If  I  could  only 
get  a  quiet  word  with  this  Mr.  Achille  Blond,  I  could 
put  a  stop  to  evei'ytliing.  That  is  my  best  course, 
not  to  lose  a  moment  in  rescuing  the  child  from 
his  boyish  indiscretion.  Yes,  I  must  go  with  Cis 
to  Meek  Street. 

^Enler  Agatha  Posket  aud  Charlotte,  elegantly 
dressed.^ 

Agatha  Posket. 
Have  you  sent  for  a  cab,  J^neas  ? 

Mr.    Posket. 
Cis  is  looking  after  that. 

Agatha  Posket. 
Poor  Cis  !     How  late  we  keej)  him  up. 


40  THE  MAGISTBATE 

[Cis  comes  /n.] 

Cis. 
Wyke  has  gone  for  a  cab,  ma,  dear. 

Agatha   Posket. 
Thank  you,  Cis,  darling. 

Cis. 

If  you'll   excuse   me,  I'll  go  to   my  room.     I've 
another  bad  headache  coming  on. 

Agatha    Posket. 
l^Kissivg  him.\     Run  along,  my  boy. 

Cis. 
Good-night,  ma.     Good-night,  Aunt  Charlotte. 

Charlotte. 
Good-night,  Cis. 

Agatha   Posket. 

\^To  hfrself.]    I  wish  the  cab  would  come. 

[Agatha  Posket  and  Charlotte  look  out  of  the 
window  J\ 

Cis. 
[At  the  door.'\    Ahem  !     Good-night,  Guv. 

Mr.  Posket. 

You've  told  a  stoiy — two,  sir  !     You  said  you  were 
going  up  to  your  room. 

Cis. 
So  I  am — to  dress. 


THE  MAO  1ST  RATE  41 

You  said  you  had  a  bad  headache  coming  on. 

Cis. 
80  I  have.  (luv.      I  always  y,el  a  bad  headache  at. 
the  Hotel  des  Piiuces.  [(to^.s  out.] 

Mr.  Posket. 
Oh,  what  a  boj  ! 

xlcxATHA  Posket. 
[To  herself.]     When  will  that  cab  come  ? 

Mr.  Posket. 
Ahem  !     My  pet,  the  idea  has  struck  111c,  that  as 
you  are  going  out,  it  would  not  be  a  bad  notion  lor 
me  to  pop  into  my  ckib. 

Agatha  Posket. 
The  club  !     You  were  there  last  night. 

]\[r    Posket. 
I  know,  my  darling.     Many  men  look  in  at  their 
clubs  every  night. 

Agatha  Posket. 
A  nice    example    for    Cis,  truly !      I  particularly 
desire  that  you  should    remain   at   home  to-night, 
.^neas. 

Mr.  Posket. 
[To  himsdf.]     Oh,  dear  me  ! 

Charlotte. 
[To  Agatha  Posket.]     Why  not  let  him  go  to  the 
club,  Agatha? 


42  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Agatha  Posket. 
He  inisbt  meet  Colonel  Lukyn  there. 

Charlotte, 

If  Colonel  Lnkvn  is  there  we  sha'n't  find  him  in 
Cork  Street  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 
Then  we  follow  him  to  the  club. 

Chaelotte. 
Ladies  never  call  at  a  club. 

Agatha  Posket, 
Such  things  have  been  known. 

[Wyke  e)Her8l\ 

Wyke. 

[Grinning  behind  /(/.s  JkouL]     The  cab  is  coming, 
ma'am. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Coming?     Why  didn't  you  bring  it  with  you  ? 

Wyke. 

I  walk  quicker  than  the  cab,  ma'am.     It's  a  good 
horse,  slow,  but  very  certain. 

Agatha  Posket, 
We  will  come  down. 

Wyke. 

[To  hnniielf.']    Just  what  the  horse  has  done.     [To 
Agatha  Posket.  j     Yes,  ma'am.         [Wyke  goes  out.'\ 


THE  MAGISTRATE  43 

Agatha  Posket. 
Good-uigbt,  ^neas. 

Mr.  Posket. 

[Nervously.]     I  wish  you  \A-ould  allow  me  to  go  to 
the  club,  my  pet. 

Agatha  Posket. 

.^neas,  I  am  surprised  at  your  obstinacy.     It  is  so 
very  different  from  my  first  husbaud. 

Mr.  Posket. 

Really,  Agatha,  I  am  shocked.     I  presume  the  late 
Mr.  Farringdou  occasionally  used  his  clubs. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Indian    clubs.       Indian    clubs  are  good    for    the 
liver,  London  clubs  are  not.     Good-night. 

Mr.    Posket. 
I'll  see  you  to  your  cab,  Agatha. 

Agatha  Posket. 
No,  thank  you. 

Mr.  Posket. 
Upon  my  word ! 

Charlotte. 
[To  Agatha  Posket.]     Why  not  ? 

Agatha  Posket. 
He  would  want  to  ffive  the  direction  to  the  cab- 


44  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Charlotte. 

The  first  tiff.  [  To  Mr.  Posket.]  Good-night,  Mr. 
Posket. 

Mr.  Posket. 

Good-night,  Miss  Veirinder. 

Agatha  Posket. 

[To  Mr.  Posket.  ]  Have  vou  any  message  for  Lady 
Jenkins? 

Mr.  Posket. 

Confound  Lady  Jenkins. 

Agatha  Posket. 

I  will  deliver  your  message  in  the  presence  of  Sir 
George,  who,  I  may  remind  you,  is  the  permanent 
Secretary  at  the  Home  Office. 

[Agatha    Posket   and   Charlotte    go    out,  Mr. 
Posket  pact's  up  and  down  e.rciledlt/.\ 

Mr.   Posket. 

Gurrh  ?  I'm  not  to  go  to  the  club  !  I  set  a  bad 
example  to  Cis  !  Ha  !  ha  !  I  am  dift'erent  from  her 
first  husband.  Yes,  I  am — I'm  alive  for  one  thing. 
I — I— I — I — I'm  dashed  if  I  don't  go  out  with  the 
boy. 

Cis. 

[Putting  /</.s'  head  in  at  the  door.]  Coast  clear,  Guv? 
All  right.' 

[Enter  Cis,  in  fash ionatAe  evening  dress,  carrying  Mr. 
Posket's  overcoat  and  hat.] 


THE  MAGISTRATE  45 

Cis. 
Here  are  your  hat  aud  overcoat. 

Mk,  Posket. 
Where  on  earth  did  you  get  that  dress  suit? 

Cis. 

Mum's  the  word.  Guv.  Brighton  tailor  —  six 
months"  credit.  He  promised  to  send  in  the  bill  to 
you  so  the  mater  won't  know.  [Puffing  Mr.  Posket's 
hat  on  hij^  head.]  By  Jove,  Guv,  don't  my  togs  show 
yo\i  up? 

Mr.    PoiSKET. 

I  won't  go,  I  Avon't  go.  I've  never  met  such  a  boy 
before. 

Cis. 

[I'ruceedfi  to  help  him  with  his  overcoat.]  Mitid 
your  arm,  Guv.  You've  got  your  hand  in  a  pocket. 
No,  no — that's  a  tear  in  the  lining.     That's  it. 

Mr.   Posket. 
I  forbid  you  to  go  out ! 

Cis. 

Yes,  Guv.  And  I  forbid  3'ou  to  eat  any  of  those 
devilled  oysters  we  shall  get  at  the  Hotel  des 
Princes.     Now  you're  right ! 

Mr.  Posket. 
I  am  not  right ! 


46  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Cis. 

Oh,  I  forgot !  \^He  pulls  out  a  handful  of  loose 
vwnei/.]  I  fouud  tliis  money  in  your  desk,  Guv. 
You  had  better  take  it  out  with  you  ;  you  may  want 
it.  Here  you  are — gohl,  silver,  and  coppers.  [He 
empties  the  monei/  into  Mk.  Posket's  overcoat  pocket.] 
One  last  precaution,  and  then  we're  off. 

\_Goes  to  the  u^ri ting  -table  and  writes  on  a  half 
sheet  <f  not('-paper.'\ 

Mr.   Posket. 

I  shall  take  a  turn  round  the  Square,  and  then 
come  home  again  !  I  will  not  be  influenced  by  a 
mere  child  !  A  man  of  my  responsible  i^osition — a 
magistrate — supping  slyly  at  the  Hotel  des  Princes, 
in  Meek  Street — it's  horrible. 

Cis. 

Now  then — we'll  creep  down-stairs  quietly  so  as 
not  to  bring  Wyke  from  his  pantry.  [Giving  Mr. 
Posket  paper.]  You  stick  tliat  up  prominently  Avhile 
I  blow  out  the  candles. 

[Cis  blows  out  the  candles  on  the  piano.] 

Mr.  Posket. 

[Fleading.]  "  Your  master  and  Mr.  Cecil  Farring- 
don  are  going  to  bed.  Don't  disturb  them."  I  will 
not  be  a  partner  to  any  written  document.  This  is 
untrue. 

Cis. 

No,  it  isn't — we  are  going  to  bed  when  we  come 
home.     Make  haste.  Guv. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  47 

Mr.   Posket. 
Oh,  what  a  boy. 

[Pinning  the  paper  on  to  the  curtaiii.] 

Cis. 

\_Turning  doicn  the  lamp  and  watching  Mr.  Posket.] 
Hallo,  Guv  !  hallo  !  You're  an  old  hand  at  this  sort 
of  game,  are  you  ? 

Mk.  Posket. 
How  dare  you  ! 

Cis. 

\_Taking  Mr.  Posket's  arm.']  Now  then,  don't 
breathe. 

]\Ir.  Posket. 

[Quite  demoralized.]  Cis  !  Cis !  Wait  a  minute 
— wait  a  minute  ! 

Cis. 

Hold  up,  Guv.     [Wyke  enters.]     Oh,  bother! 

Wyke. 
[To  Mr.  Posket.]     Going  out,  sir? 

Mr.  Posket. 

[Struggling  to  he  aiHiculate.]  No — yes — that  is — 
partially — half  round  the  Square,  and  possibly — er 
— um — back  again.     [To  Cis.]     Oh,  you  bad  boy  ! 

Wyke. 

[Coolly  going  up  to  the  paper  on  curtains.]  Shall  I 
take  this  down  now,  sir  ? 


48  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Mr.   Posket. 

[Quietly,  to  Cis.]  I'm  in  au  awful  position  !  What 
am  I  to  do  ? 

Crs. 

Do  as  I  do — tip  him. 

Mr.  Posket. 
What? 

Cia. 
Tip  him. 

Mr.  Posket. 

Oh,  yes — yes.     Where's  my  money? 

[Cis  takes  two  coins  out  o/"Mr.  Posket's  pocket 
and  gives  them  to  him  loithout  looking  atthem.^ 

Cis. 
[roMa.  Posket,]     Give  him  that. 

Mr.  Posket. 
Yes. 

Cis. 

And  say — "  Wyke,  you  want  a  new  umbrella — buy 
a  very  good  one.  Your  mistress  has  a  latch-key,  so 
go  to  bed." 

Mr.  Pusket. 

Wyke. 

Wyke. 
Yes,  sir. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  49 

Mr.  Posket. 

[Giving  him  money.]  Go  to  bed — buy  a  very 
good  one.  Your  mistress  has  a  latch-key — so — so 
you  want  a  new  umbrella  ! 

Wyke. 

All  right,  sir.  You  can  depend  on  me.  Are  you 
well  muffled  up,  sir?  Mind  you  take  care  of  him. 
Master  Cis. 

Cis. 

[Supporting  Mr.  Posket  ;  jVEr.  Posket  groaning 
softly.]     Capital,  Guv,  capital.     Are  you  hungry  ? 

Mr.  Posket. 

Hungry  ?  You're  a  wicked  boy.  I've  told  a  false- 
hood. 

Cis. 

No,  you  haven't,  Guv — he  really  does  want  a  new 
umbrella. 

Mr.  Posket. 

Does  he,  Cis  ?     Does  he  ?     Thank  heaven  ! 

[They  go  out.^ 
Wyke. 

[Looking  at  vionet/.']  Here  !  What,  twopence  ! 
[Throws  the  coi)is  down  in  disgust.]  I'll  tell  the 
missus. 

END   OF   THE    FIRST    ACT. 


THE  SECOND  ACT. 

The  scene  is  a  sttpper'-room  at  Uie  Hotel  des  Princes, 
Meek  Street,  with  two  doors — the  one  leading  into 
an  adjoining  room,  the  other  into  a  passage — 
and  a  window  opening  on  to  a  balcony. 

Isidore,  a  French  waiter,  is  sliowing  in  Cis  and  Me. 

POSKET. 

Cis. 
Come  on,  Guv — come  on.     How  are  you,  Isidore  ? 

Isidore. 

I  beg  3'our  pardon — I  am  quite  well,  and  so  are 
you,  zank  you. 

Cis. 

I  want  a  pretty  little  light  supper  for  myself  and 
my  friend,  Mr.  Skinner. 

Isidore, 
Mr.  Skinner. 

Mr.  Posket. 
[Tu  Cis.]    Skinner  !     Is  someone  else  coming? 

Cis. 
No,  no.     You're  Skinner. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  51 

Mk.  Posket. 
Oh!  [^Wanderii  round  the  I'oom.l 

Cis. 

Mr.  Sldnner,  of  the  Stock  Exchange.  What  have 
you  ready  ? 

Isidore. 

[In  an  undertone,  to  Cis.]  I  beg  your  pardon — 
very  good — but  Monsieur  Blond  he  say  to  nie,  "  Isi- 
dore, Hsten  now,  if  Mr.  Farringdon  he  come  here, 
you  sa}',  I  beg  your  pardon,  you  are  a  nice  gentle- 
man, but  will  you  pay  your  little  account  when  it  is 
quite  convenient,  before  you  leave  the  house  at  once." 

Cis. 

Quite  so  ;  there's  no  difficulty  about  that.  What's 
the  bill  ? 

Isidore. 

[Giveii  the  bill.]  I  beg  your  pardon.  Eight 
pounds  four  shillings. 

Cis. 

Phew  !  Here  go  my  winnings  from  old  Bullamy 
and  the  Guv.  [CounliiKj  oid  nioneij.^  Two  pounds 
short.  ITurnijuj  to  ^Ir.  Posket,  ivho  is  carffidly  ex- 
amining the  scratches  on  the  mirrors.]  JSkinuer ! 
Skinner  ! 

Mr.  Posket. 

Visitors  evidently  scratch  their  names  on  the  mir- 
rors. Dear  me  !  Surely  this  is  a  spurious  title — 
"  Lottie,  Duchess  of  Fulhara  !  "     How  very  curious  I 


52  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Cis. 
Skinner,  got  auy  money  with  you  ? 

Mk.  Posket. 

Yes,  Cis,  my  boy.  [Feels for  his  money ^^ 

Cis. 
You  alwaj'S  keep  it  in  that  pocket,  Skinner. 

]\Iu.  Posket. 
[TakiiKI  out  monet/.]     Oh,  yes, 

[Cis  lakes  two  sovereignx  from  Mr.  Posket  and 
gives  tlie  amount  of  Ji/'s  bill  to  Isidore,  ivlio 
goes  to  the  sideboard  to  count  out  cliange.] 

Cis. 
No  putting  the  change  to  bed ,  Isidore. 

Mu.  Posket. 
What's  that? 

Cis. 
Putting  the   change  to  bed  !     Isidore  will  show 
you.     [To  Isidore,  u^io  comes  to  them  tvith  the  change 
and  the  bill  on  (/  pl'de.]     Isidore,  show  Mr.  Skinner 
how  3'ou  put  silver  to  bed. 

Isidore. 
Oh,  Mr.  Farringdon,  I  beg  your  pardon — no,  no  ! 

jMk.  Posket. 
It  would  be  most  instructive. 

Isidore. 
Very  good.      [Goes  to  the  toble,  wpon  ivhich  he  puts 
plate.  I     Say  I  have  to  give  you  change  sixteen  shil- 
lings. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  53 

Mr.  Posket. 
Certainly. 

Isidore. 

Very  good.  Before  I  bring-  it  to  you  I  slip  a  little 
half-crown  under  tlie  bill — so.  Then  I  ])ut  what  is 
left  on  the  top  of  the  bill,  and  I  say,  "I  beg  your 
pardon,  your  change."  You  take  it,  you  give  me  two 
shillings  for  myself,  and  all  is  right. 

Mr.  Posket. 

\_Countinfi  the  t^ilver  on  lite  bill  with  the  end  of  his 
(/lasses. j  Yes,  but  suppose  I  count  the  silver,  it  is 
half-a-crown  short ! 

Isidore. 

Then  I  sav,  "  I  beg  your  pardon,  how  dare  you  sav 
that?  "  Then  I  do  so.  [He  pulls  the  bill  from  the 
2)late.'\  Then  I  say,  "The  bill  is  eight  pounds  four 
shillings  [handing  the  plate']  ;  count  again." 

Mr.  Posket. 
Ah,  of  course,  it's  all  right  now. 

Isidore. 

Very  good,  then  you  give  me  five  shillings  for 
doubting  me.     Do  it,  do  it. 

Mr.  Posket. 

[In  a  daze,  giving  him  the  five  shillings.]  Like 
this  ? 

Isidore. 

Yes,  like  that.  \Slipping  the  monei/  into  his pod-et.'] 
I  beg  your  psirdon — thank  you.  [Holding  Cis  the 
rest  of  the  diange.]     Your  change,  Mr.  Farringdon. 


54  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Cis. 
Ob,  I  sfiy,  Isidore. 

[AcHiLLE  Blond,   a  fat,  middle  -  aged   Fr-ench  hotel- 
keeper',  enters  with  a  letter  in  his  hand.] 

Isidore. 
Monsieur  Blond. 

Blond. 
Good-evening,  Mr.  Farringdon. 

Isidore. 
[Quietl;/,  to  Blond.]     Ze  bill  is  all  right. 

Cis. 

Good-evening.     \_Introducing  Mr.    Posket.]      My 
friend,  Mr.  Harvey  Skinner,  of  the  Stock  Exchange. 

Blond. 

Very  pleased  to  see  you.     [To  Cis.]     Are  you  go- 
ing to  enjoy  yourselves? 

Cis. 
Rather. 

Blond. 

You  usually  eat  in  this  room,  but  you  don't  mind 
giving  it  up  for  to-night — now,  do  you  ? 

Cis. 
Oh,  Achille  ! 

Blond. 

Come,  come,  to  please  me.    A  cab  has  just  brought 
a  letter  from  an  old  customer  of  mine,  a  gentleman 


THE  MA(UKTRATK  55 

I  haven't  seen  for  over  twenty  years,  who  wants  to 
sup  with  a  friend  in  this  room  to-night.  It's  quite 
true.  {^(Jiving  Cis  a  letter.^ 

Cis. 

[Reading  to  hhnself.\  "  19a,  Cork  Street.  Dear 
Blond — Fresh,  or,  rather,  stale  from  India — want  to 
sup  with  my  friend.  Captain  Vale,  to-night,  at  my 
old  table  in  my  old  room.  Must  do  this  for  Auld 
Lang  Syne.  Yours,  Alexander  Lukyn."  [7*0  Blond.] 
Oh,  let  him  have  it.     Where  will  you  put  us  ? 

Blond. 

You  shall  have  the  best  room  in  the  house  ;  the 
one  next  to  this.  This  room  — pah  !  Come  with  me. 
[  7t>  Mk.  Posket.  ]  Have  you  known  Mr.  Farringdon 
for  a  long  time  ? 

Mr.  Posket. 

No,  no.     Not  very  long. 

Blond. 

Ah,  he  is  a  fine  fellow — Mr.  Farringdon.  Now,  if 
you  please.     You  can  go  through  this  door. 

[Wheels  mfa  aioay  and  unlocks  the  door:] 

Cis. 

[To  Mb.  Posket.]  You'll  look  better  after  a  glass 
or  two  of  Pommery,  Guv. 

Mr.  Posket. 
No,  no,  Cis — now,  no  champagne. 


56  TJIE  MAG itiT RATE 

Cis. 

No  champagne,  not  for  my  friend,  Harvey  Skinner  I 
Come,  Guv— (iig  me  in  the  ribs — like  this.  [Digging 
him  ill  lilt  ribs  J     Chuck  ! 

Ml!.  POSKET. 

[Shrinking.l     Oh,  dou't ! 

Cis. 
And  say,  Hey  !     Go  on.  Guv. 

Mr.  Posket. 
I  can't — I  can't.     I  don't  know  what  it  may  mean. 

Cis. 
[Digging  him  in  tJie  ribs  again.]     Go  on — ch-uck  ! 

Mr.  Posket. 
What,  like  this  ?     [Returning  the  dig.]     Ch-uck  I 

Cis. 

That's  it,  that's  it.  Ha,  ha  !  You  are  going  it, 
Guv. 

Mr.  Posket. 

Am  I,  Cis?     Am  I?     [Waving  his  arm.]     Hey  ! 

Cis  and  Mr.  Posket. 
Hey! 

Cis. 
Ha,  ha  !     Come  on  !     Serve  the  supper,  Achille. 


THE  MAGItiTRATE  57 

Blond. 

Ah  !  he  is  a  gi-and  fellow,  Mr.  FiUTiii<;<l()ii.  [Cis 
^,nd  Mr.  Posket  go  ialo  /lie  oflii'r  room.  To  Isidore.] 
Replace  the  canape. 

{There  ix  a  s^hrrrp  liiock-  at  the  other  door.  Blond 
follmoii  Cis  and  Mr.  Posket  into  the  other  room, 
then  locl'x  the  door  on  the  inside.] 

Isidore. 
Come  in,  please. 

[Colonel  Lukyn  and  Captain  Vale  enter  the  room. 
LuKYN  (H  a  portly,  gra;/-ha/'red,  good-looking 
militarg  mo.n ;  Vale  is  jmle-faeed  and  heavy- 
eyed,  ivhile  his  manner  is  languid  and  dejected.] 

Lukyn. 

This  is  the  room.  Come  in,  Vale.  This  is  my  old 
supper-room — I  haven't  set  foot  here  for  over 
twenty  years.  By  George,  I  hope  to  sup  here  for 
another  twenty. 

Vale. 

[Dejectedly.]  Do  you  ?  In  less  than  that,  unless 
I  am  lucky  enough  to  fall  in  some  foreign  set-to,  I 
shall  be  in  Keusal  Green. 

Lukyn. 

[Looking  round  the  room  sentimentalb/.]  Twenty 
years  ago !     Confound  'em,  they've  painted  it. 

Vale. 

My  people  have  eight  shelves  in  the  catacombs  at 
Kensal  Green. 


58  THE  MAGISTRATE 

LUKTN. 

Nonsense,  man,  nonsense.  You're  a  little  low. 
Waiter,  take  our  coats. 

Vale. 

Don't  check  me,  Lukyn.  i\Iy  shelf  is  four  from 
the  bottom. 

Lukyn. 

You'll  forget  the  number  of  your  shelf  before 
you're  half  way  through  your  oysters. 

V.\LE. 

[Sh'ikhir/  his  held.]  An  oyster  merely  reminds 
me  of  my  own  particular  shell. 

[Isidore  begins  to  remove  Vale's  coat.] 

Lukyn. 
Ha,  ha  !     Ha,  ha  ! 

Vale. 

Don't,  Lukyn,  don't.  [In  an  undertone,  to  Lukyn.] 
It's  very  good  of  _you,  but,  by  Jove,  my  heart  is 
broken.  [To  Isidore]  Mind  my  flower,  waiter,  con- 
found 3'ou.         [He  adjusts  Jiower  in  his  button-hole.] 

Isidore. 
You  have  ordered  supper,  sir  ? 

Lukyn. 

Yes,  on  the  back  of  my  note  to  Mr.  Blond.  Serve 
it  at  once. 

Isidore. 
1  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  at  once.  [He  goes  oid.] 


TWi^  MA  GIST  HA  TE  b  1) 

LUKYN. 

So,  3'ou've  been  badlj'  treated  by  a  woman,  eh, 
Vale? 

Vale. 

Shockingly.  Between  man  and  man,  a  Miss  Ver- 
riuder — Charlotte.  [Turning  away.^  Excuse  me, 
Lukyn. 

{^Produces  a  folded  silk  handkerchief,  shakes   it 
out,  and  gently  bloivs  his  nose.J 

Lukyn. 

[Lighting  a  cigarette.]  Certainly — certainly — does 
you  great  credit.     Pretty  woman? 

V.\LE. 

Oh,  lovely  !  A  most  magnificent  set  of  teeth.  All 
real,  as  far  as  I  can  ascertain, 

Lukyn. 
No? 

Valk 
Fact. 

Lukyn. 

Great  loss.     Have  a  cigarette  ? 

Vale. 
[Taking  case  from  Lukyn.]     Parascho's? 

Lukyn. 
Yes.     Was  she — full  grown  ? 


60  THE  MAUltii'l^ATE 

Vale. 

[Liyhtinrj  his  cigarelle.]  Just  perfection.  She 
rides  eight-stone  fifteen,  and  I  have  lost  her,  Lukyn. 
Beautiful  tobacco. 

Lukyn. 
What  finished  it  ? 

Vale. 

She  gave  a  man  a  pair  of  worked  slippers  three 
days  after  our  engagement. 

Lukyn. 

No? 

Vale. 

Fact.     You  remember  Bristow — Gordon  Bristow  ? 

Lukyn. 
Perfectly.     Best  fellow  in  the  world. 

Vale. 
He  wears  them. 

LuKYTsr. 

Villain  !  Will  you  begin  with  a  light  wine,  or  go 
right  on  to  the  champagne  ? 

Vale. 

By  Jove,  it's  broken  my  heart,  old  fellow.  I'll  go 
right  on  to  the  champagne,  please.  Lukyn,  I  shall 
make  you  my  executor. 

Lukyn. 

Pooh  !  You'll  outlive  me  !  Why  don't  they  bring 
the  supper  ?  My  heart  has  been  broken  like  yours. 
It  was  broken  first  in  Ireland  in  '55.  It  was  broken 


THE  M  AGIST  HAT  K  61 

again  in  London  in  'Gl,  but  in  1870  it  was  smashed 
in  Calcutta,  by  a  married  lady  that  time. 

Vale. 
A  married  lady? 

LUKYN. 

Yes,  my  late  wife.  Talk  about  broken  hearts,  my 
boy,  when  you've  won  your  lad}',  not  when  you've 
lost  her. 

[Enler  Isidore  xoith  a  fray  of  supper  things.] 

LlKYN. 

The  supper.     [To  Vale.]     Hungry? 

Vale. 

[dIournfuUi/.]     Very. 

[Enter  Blond,  loiih  an  envelope.^ 

Blond. 
Colonel  Lukyn. 

LuKYN. 

Ah,  Blond,  how  are  you?  Not  a  day  older.  What 
have  you  got  there  ? 

Blond. 

[Quietly  to  Lukyn  in  an  undertone.]  Two  ladies. 
Colonel,  down-stairs  in  a  cab,  must  see  you  for  a  few 
minutes  alone. 

Lukyn. 

Good  gracious  !  Excuse  me.  Vale.  [Takes  the  en- 
velope from  Blond  and  opens  it,  reading  the  enclosed 
card.]  Mrs.  Posket— Mrs.  Posket !  ''  Mrs.  Posket 
entreats  Colonel  Lukyn  to  see  her  for  live  minutes 


62  THE  MAGISTRATE 

upon  a  matter  of  urgent  necessity,  and  free  from 
observation."  By  George!  Posket  must  be  ill  in 
bed — I  thought  he  looked  seedy  last  night.  [To 
Blond. J    Of  course — of  course.    Say  I'll  come  down. 

Blond, 
It  is  raining  outside.     I  had  better  ask  thain  up. 

LUKYN. 

Do — do.  I'll  get  Captain  Vale  to  stej^  into  an- 
other room.     Be  quick.     Tell  'em  I  am  quite  alone. 

Blond. 
Yes,  Colonel.  [Hurries  outl\ 

Cis. 

[In  the  next  room  raltling  glasses  and  calling.] 
Waiter  !  Waiter !  Waiter-r-r !  Where  the  deuce 
are  you  ? 

Isidore. 

Coming,  sir,  coming.     I  beg  your  pardon, 

[Bustles  ouL] 

LuKYN. 

My  dear  Vale,  I  am  dreadfully  sorry  to  bother 
you.  Two  ladies,  one  the  wife  of  a  very  old  friend 
of  mine,  have  followed  me  here  and  want  half  a 
dozen  words  with  me  alone.  I  am  in  your  hands — 
how  can  I  manage  it? 

Vale. 

My  dear  fellow,  don't  mention  it.  Let  me  go  into 
another  room. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  63 

LUKYN. 

Thank  you,  very  much.  You're  so  hungry,  too. 
Where's  the  waiter  ?     Coufouud  him,  he's  gone  ! 

Vale. 

All  right.     I'll  pop  in  here. 

[Me  passes  behind  sofa  and  tries  the  door  leading 
into  the  other  rooin.'j 

Crs. 
[Within.]     What  do  you  want ?     Who's  there? 

Vale. 

Occupied — never  mind — I'll  find  my  way  some- 
where. [There  is  a  k' nod' ;  Yale  draws  back.'] 

Blond. 
[Without.]     Colonel,  are  you  alone?     The  ladies. 

LuKYN. 

One  moment.  Deuce  take  it,  Vale  !  The  ladies 
don't  want  to  be  seen.  By  George — I  remember. 
There's  a  little  balcony  to  that  window  ;  step  out  for 
a  few  moments — keep  quiet — I  .sha'n't  detain  you — 
it's  nothing  important — husband  must  have  had  a 
fit  or  something. 

Vale. 
Oh,  certainly  ! 

LuKYN. 
Good  fellow — here's  your  hat. 

[In  his  Jiaste  lie  fetches  his  oivn  hat.] 

Blond. 
[Outside,  knocking.]     Colonel  !  Colonel ! 


64  THE  MAGISTRATE 

LUKYN. 

One  moment.  [Giving  his  Jiat  to  Vale.]  Awfully 
sorry.  You're  so  hungry  too.  [Vale^jh/.s  on  the  Jiat, 
ichich  is  much  too  large  for  ]iim.\   Ab,  that's  my  hat. 

Vale. 

My  dear  Lukyn — don't  mention  it, 

[Opening  the  xoindow  and  going  out.'] 

Lukyn. 

[Drawing  trie  curtain  over  the  recess.]  Just  room 
for  him  to  stand  like  a  man  in  a  sentry-box.  Come 
in,  Blond. 

[Blond  shows  in  Agatha,  Posket  and  Charlotte,  both 
icearing  veils.] 

Agatha  Posket. 
[Agitated.]     Oh,  Colonel  Lukyn  ! 

Lukyn. 
Fray  compose  yourself !  pray  compose  j'ourself ! 

Agatha  Posket. 
What  will  you  think  ? 

Lukyn. 
That  I  am  perfectly  enchanted. 

Agatha  Posket, 

Thank  you.     [Pointing  to  Charlotte.]     My  sister. 
[Lukyn  and  Charlotte  bow.] 


THE  MAGISTRATE  65 

LUKYN. 

Be  seated.  Blond?  [So/th/  to  him.']  Keep  the 
waiter  out  till  I  ring — that's  all. 

[The  loud  pattering  of  rain  is  heard.'\ 

Blond. 
Yes,  Colonel. 

LuKYN, 

Good  gracious,  Blond  !     What's  that? 

Blond. 
The  rain  outside.     It  is  cats  and  dogs. 

LuKYN. 

[fforrifiecL]  By  George,  is  it?  [To  himself,  look- 
ing toward  window.]  Poor  devil!  [To  Blond.] 
There  isn't  any  method  of  getting  off  that  balcony, 
is  there  ? 

Blond. 

No — unless  by  getting  onto  it. 

LuKYN. 

What  do  3'ou  mean  ? 

Blond. 
It  is  not  at  all  safe.     Don't  use  it. 

[LuKYN  stands  horror-stricken.     Blond  goes  out. 
Heavy  rain  is  heard.] 

LuKYN. 

[After  some  nervous  glances  at  the  window,  wiping 
perspiration  from  his  forehead  ]  I  am  honored,  Mrs. 
Posket,  by  this  visit — though  for  a  moment — I  can't 
imagine 


60  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Agatha  Posket. 

Colonel  Lukyn,  we  drove  to  Cork  Street  to  your 
lodgiugs,  and  there  your  servant  told  us  you  were 
supping  at  the  Hotel  des  Princes  with  a  friend. 
No  one  will  be  shown  into  this  room  while  we  are 
here  ? 

Lukyn. 

No — we — aL — shall  not  be  disturbed.  [To  him- 
self.] Good  heavens,  suppose  I  never  see  him  alive 
again  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 

[Sigliing  wearily.'\     Ah  ! 

Lukyn. 
I'm  afraid  3'ou've  come  to  tell  me  Posket  is  ill. 

Agatha  Posket. 
I — no — my  husband  is  at  home. 

[.4  siharp  gust  of  rvind  /s  Jieard  w/'(h  the  rain.l 

Lukyn. 
Lord  forgive  me !     I've  killed  him. 

Agatha  Posket. 
[With  hojror.]     Colonel  Lukyn  ! 

LUKY-N. 

Madam  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 
Indeed,  Mr.  Posket  is  at  home. 

Li^kyn. 
[Glancing  at  the  wiiuIou\'\     Is  he?     I  wish  we  all 
were. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  67 

Agatha  Posket. 

[To  heri^elf.']  Sunstroke  evidently.  Poor  fellow  ! 
\To  LuKYN.]  I  assure  you  my  liusbiind  is  iit  home, 
quite  well,  and  by  this  time  sleepinj;-  soundly. 

[Cis  and  Mn.  Posket  are  hcanj  luugliiny  hi  iJie 
next  room.] 

Isidore. 

[]Vilh(n.]  You  arc  two  funny  gentlemen,  I  beg 
your  pardon. 

Agatha  Posket. 

[Startled.]     What  is  that  ? 

LuKYN. 

In  the  next  room.  [Bap^i  at  the  door.]  Hush — 
hush,  hash  ! 

Charlotte. 

Get  it  over,  Aggy,  and  let  us  go  home.  I  am  so 
awfully  hungry. 

LuKYN. 

[Peeriiu/  through  the  curtain.^.]  It  is  still  bearing 
him.  What's  his  weight?  Surely  he  can't  scale 
over  ten  stone.     Lord,  how  wet  he  is  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 

Colonel  Lukyn  ! 

Lukyn. 

[Leaving  the  xoindow  ^harpJij.]  Madam,  command 
me  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 

Colonel  Lukyn,  we  knew  each  other  at  Baroda 
twenty  years  ago. 


68  THE  MAGISTRATE 

LUKYN. 

When  I  look  at  you,  imiDOSsible. 

Agatha  Posket. 
Ah,  then  you  mustn't  look  at  me. 

LuKYN. 

E(inally  impossible, 

Charlotte. 
IT(J  Jierxc/f.  ]     Oh,  I  feel  quite  out  of  this. 

Agatha  Posket. 
You  were  at  my  little  boy's  christening? 

LCKYTSI. 

[Absent!  I/.  ]     Yes — yes — certainly. 

Agatha  Posket. 
You  remember  what  a  fine  little  fellow  he  was. 

LUKYX. 

[TJiougJiifaJh/.]     Not  a  pound  over  ten  stone. 

Agatha  Posket. 
Colonel  Lukyn  ! 

LuKYN. 

I  beg  your  pardon,  yes— I  was  at  the  christening 
of  your  boy. 

Agatha  Posket. 

[To  Af'r.sY'//']    One  of  the  worst  cases  of  sunstroke 
I  have  ever  known. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  69 

LUKYX. 

I  remember  the  cliilil  very  well.     Has  lie  still  got 

that  absurd  mug  ? 

Agatha  Posket. 
Colonel  Lukyn  ! 

LUKYN. 

Madam  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 
My  child  is,  and  always  was — perfect. 

Lukyn. 

You  misunderstand  me  !  I  ^vas  his  godfather  ;  I 
gave  him  a  silver  cup. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Oh,  do  excuse  me.  How  did  I  become  acquainted 
with  such  a  vulgar  expression  ?  I  don't  know  where 
I  pick  up  my  slang.  It  must  be  through  loitering 
at  shop-windows.     Oh,  oh,  oh  ! 

Lukyn. 

Pray  compose  yourself.  I'll  leave  you  for  a 
moment.  [Going  to  the  ivindow.] 

Agatha  Posket. 
[To  Charlotte.]     How  shall  I  begin,  Charley  ? 

Charlotte. 

Make  a  bold  plunge,  do  !  The  odor  of  cooking 
here,  to  a  hungry  woman,  is  maddening. 

[V.ALE  i<oftly   opens  lite   winchnv  and  comes  into 
the  recess,  but  remains  concealed  by  the  curtain.] 


70  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Vale. 

\To  himself.]  This  is  too  bad  of  Lukj'n  !  I'm 
wet  to  the  skin  and  frightfully  hungry  !  Who  the 
deuce  are  these  Avomen  ? 

Agatha  Posket. 
Colonel  Lulcyn  ! 

LUKYN. 

Madam.     [Lideiu'ng.  ]     No  crash  yet. 

Agatha  Posket. 

[TmjiulsiveJy  laying  her  hand  itpon  his  arm,] 
Friend  of  twenty  years !  I  will  be  quite  candid 
with  you.  You  are  goii^g  to  dine  with  us  to- 
morrow ? 

LuKYN. 

Madam,  I  will  repay  your  candor  as  it  deserves.  I 
am. 

Agatha  Posket. 

My  husband  knows  of  your  acquaintance  with 
the  circumstances  of  my  first  marriage.  I  know 
what  men  are.  When  the  women  leave  the  dinner- 
table,  men  become  retrospective.  Now  to-morrow 
night,  over  dessert,  I  beg  you  not  to  give  my  hus- 
band dates. 

LuKYN. 
Eh? 

Agatha  Posket. 
Keep  anything  like  dates  from  him. 

LuKYN. 

Mustn't  eat  stone  fruit  ? 


THE  MAGISTRATE  71 

Agatha  Posret. 

No,  I  mean  years,  months,  days — dates  connected 
with  my  marriage  with  Mr.  Farringdon. 

LUKYN. 

Dear  me,  sore  subject  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 

I  will  be  more  than  candid  with  you.  My  present 
husband,  having  a  very  short  vacation  in  the  dis- 
charge of  his  public  duties,  wooed  me  but  for  thiee 
weeks  ;  you,  who  have  in  your  time  courted  and 
married,  know  the  material  of  which  that  happy 
period  is  made  up.  The  futuie  is  all  engrossing  to 
the  man  ;  the  presents-  I  mean  the  present — a  joy- 
ous dream  to  the  worn  in.  But  in  dealing  with  my 
past  I  met  with  more  than  ordinary  difficulties. 

LuKYN. 

Don't  see  why  ;  late  husband  died  a  natural  death 
— wasn't  stood  on  a  balcony  or  anything. 

Ag.\tha  Posket. 

Colonel  Lukyu,  you  know  I  was  six-and-thirty  at 

the  time  of  my  recent  marriage  1 

LuKYN. 

You  surprise  me  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 

You  know  it !  Be  frank,  Lukyn  !  Am  I  not  six- 
and-thirty  ? 

Lukyn. 
You  are. 


72  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Agatha  Posket. 

Very  well  then.  In  u  three  weeks'  engagement 
how  was  it  possible  for  me  to  deal  with  the  various 
ejjisodes  of  six-and-thirty  years?  The  past  may  be 
pleasant,  golden,  beautiful  ;  but  one  may  have  too 
much  of  a  good  thing. 

LUKYN. 

[7b  hhufidf.l     I  am  in  that  position  now. 

Agatha  Posket, 

The  man  who  was' courting  me  was  seeking  relax- 
ation from  the  discharge  of  multifarious  responsi- 
bilities. How  could  I  tax  an  already  wearied  at- 
tention with  the  recital  of  the  events  of  thirty-sis 
years  ? 

LuKYN. 

What  did  you  do? 

Agatha  Posket. 

Out  of  consideration  for  the  man  I  loved,  I  sacri- 
ficed five  years  of  happy  girlhood — told  him  I  was 
but  one-and-thirty — that  I  had  been  married  only 
fifteen  years  previously — that  my  boy  was  but  foui'- 
teeu  ! 

LuKYN. 

By  George,  madam,  and  am  I  to  subscribe  to  all 
this  ? 

Agatha  Posket. 

I  only  ask  you  to  avoid  the  question  of  dates. 

LuKYN. 

But,  at  a  man's  dinner-table 


THE  MAGISTRATE  t3 

A(iATHA    POSKET. 

You  need  not  spoil  a  man's  din  nor.  Not  only  a 
man's — but  a  woinim's  !  Lukyn,  Lukyn  !  Prom- 
ise ! 

Ltkyn. 

Give  me  a  second  to  think. 

[LrKYN,  turning  aivcu/,  di.^corrr^  Charlotte  in 
the  act  of  lifting  the  cooertifrom  the  dishes  and 
inspecting  the  conle)its.^ 

LUKVN. 

Ab,  devilled  oysters  ! 

Charlotte. 
Oh! 

[Drops  dish-cover  with  a  crash,  and  runs  over  to 
the  table  and  speats  to  Agatha  Posket.] 

Lukyn. 

Don't  go — pray  look  ut  'em  again — wish  I  conld 
persuade  you  to  taste  them.  What  am  I  to  do  ? 
Shall  I  promise  ?  Poor  Posket  !  If  I  don't  prom- 
ise she'll  cry  and  won't  go  home.  The  oysters  are 
nearly  cold — cold!  What  must  Jw  be!  [Drawing 
aside  the  curtain,  and,  not  seeing  Vale,  he  staggers 
back.]  Gone — and  without  a  cry.  Brave  fellow, 
brave  fellow ! 

Agatha  Posket. 
Colonel  Lukyn. 

Lukyn. 

Decay  of  stamina  in  the  arn^y — pah  !  The  young 
'uns  are  wortliy  of  our  best  days. 


74  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Agatha  Posket. 
Colonel  Lukyn,  will  you  promise  ? 

LUKVX. 

Promise  ?     Anything,  m_v  clear  madam,  anything, 

Agatha  Posket. 

Ah,  thank  vou  !  May  I  ask  you  to  see  us  to  our 
cab  ? 

LUK^'N. 

Certainly  !     Thank  heaven,  they're  going  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 
[Tci  Charlotte.]     It's  all  right  ;  come  along  ! 

Chaelotte. 

[Tb  Agatha  Posket.]  Oh,  those  oysters  look  so 
nice, 

Lukyn. 

[To  himself. '\  Stop!  In  my  trouble,  I  am  for- 
getting even  the  commonest  courtesies  to  these 
ladies.  \_To  Agatha  Posket.]  You  have  a  long 
journey  before  you.  I  am  sure  your  husband  would 
not  forgive  me  for  letting  you  face  such  weather  un- 
prepared. Let  me  recommend  an  oyster  or  two 
and  a  thimbleful  of  champagne. 

Agatha  Posket, 
No,  thank  you,  Colonel  Lukyn. 

Charlotte, 
[To  Agatha  Posket,]     Say  yes.     I'm  starving. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  75 

LUKYN. 

As  you  please.  [To  himself .]  I  knew  they'd  re- 
fuse.    I've  clone  my  duty. 

Chaklotte. 

[To  Agatha  Posket.]  I  was  in  the  train  till  seven 
o'clock.  Wait  till  you're  a  bona  fide  traveller — ac- 
cept. 

xA.GATHA  Posket. 

Ahem  !  Colonel,  the  fact  is  my  poor  sister  has 
been  travelling  all  day  and  is  a  little  exhausted. 

LUKYN. 

[Horrijied.]  You  don't  mean  to  say  you're  going 
to  give  me  the  inestimable  pleasure.  [Charlotte 
looks  across  at  liim,  nodding  and  smiling.]  I  am  de- 
lighted. 

[Charlotte  sits  hungrily  at  table  ;  IjVKTn  fetches 
a  bottle  of  champagne  from  the  sideboard.] 

Agatha  Posket. 
[To  Charlotte.]     Charlotte,  I  am  surprised. 

Charlotte. 

[To  Agatha  Posket  ]  Nonsense  ;  the  best  people 
come  here.  Some  of  them  have  left  their  names  on 
the  mirrors. 

Vale. 

[Behind  the  curtain.]  This  is  much  too  bad  of 
Luk^'n.  What  are  they  doing  now  ?  [Lukyn  draivs 
the  cork.]     Confound  it,  they're  having  my  supper! 

[LuKYT*  pours  out  ^oine.] 


76  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Chaklotte. 

"NVhv  doesn't  be  give  nie  soinetluiig  to  eat? 

[There  I'.s  a  vJutier  of  knivef^  caulforl:^  heard  from 
the  other  roow,  then  a  hard  of  hnu/hter  f7'om 
Cis.] 

Agath.v  Posket. 

[Starting.]     Charley,  liark  !     How  strange  ! 

Chaklotte. 

Very.     This  bread  is  beautiful. 

[Cis  is  heard  singing  the  chorus  of  a  comic  song, 
boisteronsi  g.] 

Agatha  Pusket. 
Don't  you  recognize  tliat  voice  ? 

Charlotte. 

[Mnnching.]     The  only  voice  I   recognize  is  the 
voice  of  hunger. 

Agatha  Posket. 

I  am  overwrought,  I  suppose. 

[LuKi-N,  ivith  his  liead  drooping,  fetches  the  dish 
of  oysters  from  the  sideboard.] 

Vale. 

[Behind  the  curtains.]     He  has  taken  the  oysters. 
I've  seen  him  do  it. 

LUKYN. 

The  oysters. 

[LuKYN  sinks  into  his  chair  at  the  table  and  leans 
his  Jiead  vjwn  Jiis  liand ;  the  tioo  ivomen  look 
at  eacii  olh<r.] 


THE  MAGISTRATE  Tl 

Chaukotte. 
[Tb  Agatha  Posket.]     Anything  wrong? 

Agatha  Posket. 
Sunstroke — bad  case  ! 

Citaklotte. 

Oh — poor  fellow.     |  .S7(t'  gently  lifttt  the  corner  of 
the  dish,  sniffs,  then  replaces  cover. \     No  plates. 

Agatha  Posket. 
Ask  for  them. 

Charlotte. 
You  ask. 

Agatha  Posket. 
You're  hungry'. 

Charlotte. 

You're  married.     Conies  better  from  you. 

Vale. 
[Behind  curtains.]     This  silence  is  terrible. 

Agatha  Posket. 
[To  LuKYN.J     Ahem  !     Ahem  ! 

Lt:kyn. 
[^Looking  up  suddenhj.']     Eh? 

Ag.\tha  Posket. 
There  are  no  plates. 


78  THE  MAGISTRATE 

LUKYN. 

No  plates  ?  No  plates  ?  It's  my  fault.  Pardon 
me.     Where  are  the  plates? 

[Vale,  still  invisible,  stretche.'^  nut  his  hand 
through  the  curtain,  fakes  up  the  plates  and 
presents  them  to  Lukyn,  irho  recoils.'\ 

Vale, 

\In  a  whisperl]  Here  are  the  plates.  Look  sharp, 
Lukyn. 

Lukyn. 

Vale  !  safe  and  sound  !  [He  takes  the  pilates,  then 
ijrasps  Vale's  extended  hand.\  Bless  you,  old  fellow. 
I'm  myself  again,  [^tioiug  gai/h/  to  the  table  v:itlt, 
the  plates.]  My  dear  ladies,  I  blush — I  positively 
blush — I  am  the  worst  host  in  the  world. 

Vale. 
[To  himself.']     By  Jove,  that's  true. 

Agatha  Posket. 
Not  at  all— not  at  all. 

Lukyn. 

[Helping  the  ladies.]  I'll  make  amends,  by  George ! 
You  may  have  noticed  I've  been  confoundedly  out  of 
sorts.  That's  my  teiuperament — now  up,  now 
down.     I've  just  taken  a  turn,  ha,  ha  !     Oysters. 

[Handing  plate  to  Agatha  Posket.] 

Agatha  Posket. 
Thank  you. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  79 

LUKYN. 

Ab  !  I've  passed  many  a  liappy  hour  in  this  room. 
The  present  is  not  the  least  happy. 

Ch.vrlotte. 
[Trying  to  attract  his  attention.]     Ahem  !      Ahem  ! 

LUKYN. 

[Gazing  up  at  the  ceiling. '[  My  first  visit  to  the 
Hotel  cles  Princes  was  in  the  year — the  year — let  me 
think. 

Charlotte. 

[Whispering  to  Agatha  Posket.]  Isn't  he  going 
to  help  me  ? 

LuKYN. 

Was  it  in  '55  ? 

Agatha  Posket. 

[Quickly  passing  her  plate  over  to  Charlotte.]  I'm 
not  hungry. 

Charlotte. 
You're  a  dear. 

LuKYN. 

[Emphatically.^  It  icas  in  '55.  I'm  forgetful 
again — pardon  me.  [He  hands  plate  of  oysters  to  Char- 
lotte and  is  surprised  to  find  her  eating  vigorously.] 

Why,  I  thought  I [To  Agatha  Posket.]     My 

dear  madam,  a  thousand  apologies.     [He  helps  her 
and    then   himself.]     Pah  !    they're    cold — icy — you 


80  THE  MAGISTRATE 

could  skate    on  'em.     There's  a  disli  of  something 
else  over  there. 

[//e;  yoex  to  (lie  xldehoard  ;  Vale's  ha  ml  is  again 
dr  etched  fur  IJ I  with  the  uilter  covered  dish.\ 

V.VLE. 

I  say,  Ltikyn. 

LUKYN, 

[Taking  the  dish.]  Thanks,  old  fellow.  [He  re- 
turns to  the  table  and  tiffs  tlie  cuoer.]  Soles — they 
look  tempting.  If  there  are  only  some  lemons  ! 
Surely  they  are  not  so  brutal  as  to  have  forgotten 
the  lemons.  Where  are  they?  [He  returns  to  the 
sideboard.]  Where  are  they  ?  [In  an  undertone  to 
Vale.]     Have  you  seen  any  lemons? 

Agatha  Posket. 

Pray,  think  less  of  us,  Colonel  Lukyn.  Let  me 
take  care  of  you. 

Lukyn. 

You're  very  kind.  I  wish  you  would  let  me  ring 
for  some  lemons. 

[Vale's  hand  comes  as  be/ore  from  behind  the 
curtain  to  tJie  sideboard,  finds  lite  dish  of  lem- 
ons and  holds  it  out  at  arm's  length.] 

Vale. 

[Fn  a  whisj^er.]     Lemons. 

[Agatha  Posket  is  lielping  Lukyn,  wlien  suddenly 
Charlotte,  vsdtlt  her  fork  in  tlie  air,  leans  back, 
open-mouOied ,  staring  ivildly  at  Vaij:'s  arm 
extended  wit/i  the  dish.] 


THE  MAGISTRATE  81 

Charlotte. 
\In  terror.^     Agatha  !  Agatha  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 
Charlotte — what's  the  matter,  Charley  ? 

Charlotte. 
Agatha ! 

Agatha  Poskkt. 
You're  ill,  Charlotte  !     Surely  you  are  not  chok- 
ing •■' 

Charlotte. 
Look,  look  ! 

[Pointing  to  the  curiaivs,  they  both  scream.'] 

LUKYN. 

Don't  be  alarmed— I 


[■    [Together.] 


Charlotte. 
What's  that  ? 

Agatha  Posket.     j 
Who's  that?  J 

LuKYN. 

I  can  explain.     Don't  condemn  till  you've  heard. 
I — I —     Damn  it,  sir,  put  those  lemons  down  ! 

Charlotte. 
He  calls  him  "  sir" — it  must  be  a  man. 

LuKYN. 

It  is  a  man.     I  am  not  in  a  position  to  deny  that. 


82  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Agatha  Posket. 
Really,  Colonel  Lukyn ! 

LUKYN. 

It  is  my  friend.  He — he — he's  merely  waiting  for 
his  sujDper. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Your  friend.  [  To  Charlotte  ]  Come  home, 
dear. 

Lukyn. 

Do,  do  hear  me  !  To  avoid  the  embarrassment  of 
your  encountering  a  stranger,  he  retreated  to  the 
balcony. 

Agatha  Posket. 

To  the  balcony  ?  You  have  shamefvxlly  compro- 
mised two  trusting  women,  Colonel  Lukyn. 

Lukyn. 

I  would  have  laid  down  my  life  rather  than  have 
done  so.     I  did  lay  down  ray  friend's  life. 

Agatha  Posket. 

He  has  overheard  every  confidential  word  I  have 
spoken  to  you. 

Lukyn. 

Hear  his  explanation.  Why  the  devil  don't  you 
corroborate  me,  sir  ? 

Vale. 

[From  hehivd  the  curtain.]  Certainly,  I  assure 
you  I  heard  next  to  nothing. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  83 

Charlotte. 
^Grasping  Agatha  Posket's  arm.]     Ob,  Agatha  ! 

Vale. 
I  didu't  come  in  till  I  was  exceedingly  wet. 

LUKYN. 

[To  Agatha  Posket.]     You  hear  that? 

Vale. 
And  when  I  did  come  in • 

Charlotte. 
[/jTysfiricalli/.]     Horace ! 

Valk 
I  beg  your  pardon. 

Charlotte. 
It's  Horace,  Captain  Vale. 

Vale. 

\_Coming  from  behind  the  curtain,  looking  terribly 
wet.']     Charlotte — Miss  Verrinder. 

Charlotte. 

What  are  you  doing  here  ?  What  a  fright  you 
look. 

Vale. 

What  am  I  doing  here,  Miss  Verrinder  ?  Really, 
Lukyn,  your  conduct  calls  i'or  some  little  explana- 
tion. 

LuKYN. 

My  conduct,  sir  ? 


84  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Vale. 

You  malce  some  paltry  excuse  to  turn  me  out  in 
the  rain  while  you  entertain  a  lady  who  you  know 
Las  very  recently  broken  my  heart. 

Ll'KYN. 

I  didn't  know  anything  of  the  kind. 

Yale, 

I  told  yon,  Colonel  Lnkyn.  This  isn't  the  con- 
duct of  an  officer  and  a  gentleman. 

LUKYN. 

Whose  isn't,  yonvs  or  mine? 

Yale. 
Mine.     I  mean  yours. 

LUKYN. 

You  are  in  the  presence  of  ladies,  sir.  Take  off 
my  hat, 

Yale. 

I  Leg  your  pardon.     I  didn't 'know  I  had  it  on. 
\_IJe  throws  the  hat  aivai/  and  the  two  men  ex- 
ehanae  angry  worth.^ 

Charlotte. 

He's  a  very  good-looking  fellow  ;  you  don't  see  a 
man  at  his  best  when  he's  wet  through, 

Agatha  Posket. 

[7LLrKVN.]  Colonel  Lukyn,  do  you  ever  intend 
to  send  for  a  cab  V 


THE  MAGISTRATE  85 

LUKYN. 

Certainly,  madam. 

Vale. 

One  moment.     I  have  some  personal  explanation 
to  exchange  with  Miss  Verrinder. 

Charlotte. 

[7t>  Agatha  Posket.]     The  slippers.     [To  Vale.] 
I  am  quite  ready,  Captain  Vale. 

Vale. 

Tliank  you.     Colonel  Lnkyn,  will  you  oblige  me 
by  stepping  out  onto  that  balcony. 

LuKYN. 

Cei'tainly  not,  sir. 

Vale. 

You're  afraid  of  the  wet,  Colonel  Lukyn  ;  you  are 
no  soldier. 

Lukyn. 

You  know  better,  sir.     As  a  matter  of  fact,  that 
balcony  can't  bear  a  man  like  me. 

Vale. 

Which  shows  that  inanimate  objects  have  a  great 
deal  of  common-sense,  sir. 

Lukyn. 

You  don't  prove  it  in  your  own   instance,  Captain 
Vale. 


86  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Vale, 
That's  a  verbal  quibble,  sir,      [They  talk  angrily.'] 

Agatha  Posket. 

\To  Charlotte.]  It's  frigbtfally  late.  Tell  him 
to  write  to  you. 

Charlotte. 

I  must  speak  to  bim  to-nigbt  ;  life  is  too  short  for 
letters. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Then  be  can  telegraph. 

Charlotte. 

HalfiDenny  a  word,  and  be  has  nothing  but  his 
pay. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Very  well,  then,  Lady  Jenkins  has  a  telephone. 
I'll  take  you  there  to  tea  to-morrow.  If  be  loves 
you  tell  bim  to  ring  up  1  3  3  8  0  9  1. 

Charlotte. 
You  thoughtful  angel. 

LUKYN. 

]Mrs.  Posket — Miss  Verrinder — ahem — we 

Vale. 
Colonel  Lukyn  and  myself 

LuKYN. 

Captain  Vale  and  I  fear  that  we  have  been  be- 
trayed, in  a  moment  of 


THE  MAGISTRATE  87 

Vale. 
Natural  irritation. 

LlTKYN. 

Natural  irritation,  into  the  atrocious  impropriety 
of  differing 

Vale. 
Before  ladies. 

LUKYN. 

Charming  ladies 

Vale. 
We  beg  your  pardon.     Lukyn ! 

LuKYN. 

Vale.       [They  graftp  hand><.]     Mrs.  Posket,  I  am 
now  going  out  to  hail  a  cab. 

Agatha  Posket. 
Pray,  do. 

Lukyn. 

Miss    Verrinder,     the   process    will    occupy   five 
minutes. 

Vale. 

[Giving  his  hat  to  Lukyn.]     Lukyn,  I  return  your 
kindness — my  hat. 

Lukyn. 

Thank  you,  my  boy. 

[Lukyn  ■puta  on  Vale's  hat,  which  is  much  too 
small  for  him.  As  he  is  going  out  there  is  a 
knock  at  the  door  ;  he  opens  it ;  Blond  is  out- 
side.] 


88  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Blond. 

Colonel,  it  is  ten  minutes  past  the  time  of  closing. 
May  I  ask  you  to  disujiss  your  party  ? 

LrKYN. 

Pooli !     Isn't  this  a  free  country  ?     [fle  goes  out.'\ 

Blond. 

Yes,  you  are  free  to  go  home,  Colonel.  I  shall 
get  into  trouble.  [Fulloiving  him  out.] 

Charlotte. 

[To  Agatha  Posket.]  I'll  have  the  first  won!. 
Really,  Captain  Vale,  I'm  surjirised  at  you. 

Vale. 

There  was  a  happy  time,  jNIiss  Verrinder,  when  I 
might  have  been  surprised  at  you. 

Charlotte. 

A  few  hours  ago  it  was — "By  Jove,  all  is  over." 
Now  I  find  you  with  a  bosom  friend  enjoying  dev- 
illed oysters. 

Vale. 

I  beg  your  pardon,  I  find  you  enjoying  devilled 
oysters. 

Charlotte. 

Horace  Vale,  you  forget  you  have  forfeited  the 
right  to  exercise  any  control  over  my  diet. 

Vale. 

One  would  think  I  had  broken  off  our  engage- 
ment. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  81) 

Charlotte. 

If  you  have  not,  wlio  hfis?  I  have  your  letter 
saying  all  is  over  between  us.  [I'nftunj  Jvr  havd/cer- 
chief  to  her  ei/es.]  That  letter  will  be  stamjicd  to- 
morrow at  Somerset  House.  I  know  how  to  protect 
myself. 

Vale. 

Charlotte,  can  you  explain  your  conduct  with 
Gordon  Bristow  ? 

Charlotte. 

I  could  if  I  chose  ;  a  young  lady  can  explain  any- 
thing. 

Vale. 

But  he  is  showing  your  gift  to  our  fellows  all  over 
the  place. 

Charlotte. 

It  was  a  debt  of  honor.  He  laid  me  a  box  of 
gloves  to  a  pair  of  slippers  about  Forked  Light- 
ning for  the  Regimental  Cup,  and  Forked  Light- 
ning went  tender  at  the  heel.  I  couldn't  come  to 
you  with  debts  hanging  over  me.  IGrying.]  I  am 
too  conscientious. 

Vale. 
By  Jove,  I've  been  a  brute. 

Charlotte. 
Y-y-yes. 

Vale. 

Can  you  forget  I  ever  wrote  that  letter  ? 


90  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Charlotte. 

That  must  be  a  question  of  time.  [She  lays  her 
head  on  his  shoulder  and  then  removes  i/.]  How  damp 
you  are.  [She  pats  her  laindLerdiief  upon  his  shoul- 
der and  replaees  her  Jtead.  iSlie  moves  his  arm  grad- 
vally  uj:>  and  arranges  it  round  her  sJtoulder.]  If  you 
went  on  anyhow,  every  time  I  discharged  an  obhga- 
tiou,  we  should  be  most  uiihai)j)y. 

Vale. 

I  promise  you  I  won't  mention  Bristow's  slippers 
again.     By  Jove,  I  won't — there. 

Charlotte. 

Very  well,  then,  if  you  do  that  I'll  give  you  ray 
word  I  won't  pay  any  more  debts  before  our  mar- 
riage. 

Vai.e. 
My  darling  . 

[About  to  embrace  her,  but  remembering  that  he 
is  ivet.] 

Charlotte. 

No— no — you  are  too  damp. 

Isidore. 

[O/dxide.']  I  beg  your  pardon,  it  is  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  over  our  time. 

[Agatha  Fohket  has  tx'en  sitting  on  the  sofa  ;  sud- 
denbj  she  s/arls,  listening  intently.^ 

Mr.   Posket. 

[Outside.]  I  know — I  know.  I'm  going  directly 
I  can  get  the  boy  away. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  91 

Agatha  Posket. 
[To  herself.  ]     ^neas ! 

Cis. 
[Oatside.'\     All  right,  Guv,  you  finish  your  bottle. 

Agatha  Posket. 
My  boy. 

IsiDOEE. 

[_OuUideA     Geutlemeu,  come — come. 

Agatha  Posket. 

\To  herself.']  Miserable  deceiver  !  This,  then,  is 
the  club,  and  the  wretched  man  conspires  to  drag 
my  boy  down  to  his  own  awful  level.  What  shall  I 
do  ?  I  daren't  make  myself  known  here.  I  know  ; 
I'll  hurry  home,  and  if  I  reach  there  before  .^ueas, 
which  I  shall  do,  I'll  sit  up  for  him. 

[LuKYN  relurns.^^ 

Agatha  Posket. 
Is  the  cab  at  the  door  ? 

LuKYN. 

It  is. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Charlotte  !     Charlotte  !     [Drawing  her  veil  down.] 
Charlotte. 

I'm  ready,  dear.  [To  Yale.]  Married  sisters  are 
always  a  little  thoughtless. 

V.\LE. 

[Offering  his  arm.]     Permit  me. 


92  TUE  MAGISTRATE 

LUYKN. 

[Offering  his  arm  to  Agatha  Posket.]  My  dear 
madam . 

[They  are  all  four  about  to  leave,  ichen  'BLom>  enters 
hiariedhj.] 

Blond. 
[Holding  up  his  Itand  for  silence.]     Hush!    Husli! 

LUKYN. 

What's  the  matter  ? 

Blond. 
The  poHce  ! 

All. 

[Ill  a  ?o/a".sper.]     The  police  I 

Blond. 

[Quietly.]    The  police  are  down-stairs  at  the  door. 
1  told  you  so. 

Charlotte. 

[Clinging  to  Vale.]     Oh,  dear  !     Oh,  dear  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 
Gracious  powers  ! 

Blond. 

Keep  quiet,  please.  They  may  be  satisfied  with 
Madame  Blond's  assurances.  I  must  put  you  iu 
darkness  ;  they  can  see  the  light  here  if  they  go  round 
to  the  back. 

[Blows  out  candles  and  turns  down  the  lights.] 

Agatha  Posket  and  Charlotte. 
Oh! 


THhJ  MAdlSTUATE  93 

Blond. 

Keep  quiet,  please  !  My  license  is  once  marked 
already.     Colonel  Lukyu,  tliank  you  for  this. 

[//e  rjocs  oiil.'\ 

AOATHA    POSKET. 

\^Wh!mpe.ring.\  INIiserable  men  !  What  have  you 
done  ?     Are  you  criminals  ? 

Chahlotte. 

You  haven't  deserted  or  anything  on  my  account, 
have  you,  Horace  ? 

LUKYN. 

Hush  !  Don't  be  alarmed.  Our  time  has  passed 
so  agreeably  that  we  have  overstepped  the  prescribed 
hour  for  closing  the  hotel.     That's  all. 

Agatha  Posket. 
What  can  they  do  to  us  ? 

LuKYN. 

A.t  the  worst,  take  our  names  and  addresses,  and 
summon  us  for  being  here  during  j^rohibited  hours. 

Agatha  Posket. 
Oh! 

Charlotte. 

[To  Vale.]     Horace,  can't  you  speak? 

Vale. 
By  Jove,  I  very  much  regret  this. 

[Isidore  enlersil 


94  THE  MAGISTRATE 

LUKYN. 

Well,  well? 

Isidore. 
I  beg  your  pardon,  the  police  have  come  in. 

LuKYN. 

The  devil!  [To  Agath\  Posket.]  My  dear  lady, 
don't  faint  at  such  a  moment. 

[Blond  enters  qulcUij,  carrying  a  rug.^ 

Blond. 
They  are  going  over  the  house  !     Hide  ! 

Agatha  Posket  and  Charlotte. 
Oh  !  {_Thcre  is  a  general  commofioji.] 

Blond. 

They  have  put  a  man  at  the  back.  Keep  away 
from  the  window.  [They  are  all  bustling,  and  everybody 
is  talking  in  iohisj)ers  ;  Lukyn  places  Agatha  Posket 
under  the  table,  where  she  is  concealed  by  the  cover ;  he 
gels  behind  the  overcoats  hanging  from  thejjegs  ;  Vale 
and  Charlotte  crouch  down  behind  sofa.]  Thank  3'ou 
very  much.  I  am  going  to  put  Isidore  to  bed  on  the 
sofa.  That  will  explain  the  light  which  has  just  gone 
out.  [Isidore  quietly  places  himself  upon  the  sofa, 
Blond  covering  him  with  the  I'ug.]  Thank  you  very 
much.  [He  goes  out.] 

Agatha  Posket. 

[In  a  stifled  voice.^    Charley  !     Charley  ! 


Tllf:  MAGISTRATE  95 

Charlotte. 
Yes. 

Agatha  Posket. 
Where  are  you  ? 

Charlotte. 
Here. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Ob,  where  is  Captain  Yale? 

Charlotte. 
I  think  he's  near  me. 

Vale. 
By  Jove,  Charlotte,  I  am  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 
Colonel  Liikyn  ! 

LUKYN. 

{From  behind  Ihe  coats.]     Here,  madam  I 

Agatha  Posket. 
Don't  leave  us. 

LUKYN. 

Madam,  I  am  a  soldier. 

Charlotte. 

[To  Vale.]    Oh,  Horace,  at  such  a  moment  what  a 
comfort  we  must  be  to  each  other. 


96  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Vale. 

My  dear  Clmrlotte,  it's  incalculable. 

[Isidore  f/oith/  I'aises  himself  and  looks  over  the 
back  o/',s'o/a.] 

Charlotte. 

[In  terror.]     What's  that  ? 

Isidore. 
[Softhj.l     I  beg  your  pardon. 

[Blond  enters  quietly,  fuUowed  by  Cis  and  Mr.  Posket 
on  lip-toe.  Ma.  Posket  holding  on  to  Cis.] 

Blond. 

This  way  ;  be  quick.  Excuse  me,  the  police  are 
just  entering"  the  room  in  which  these  gentlemen 
were  having  sui>i)er.  One  of  them  is  anxious  not  to 
be  asked  any  questions.  Please  to  hide  him  and  his 
friend  somewhere.  They  are  both  very  nice  gentle- 
men. IHe  goes  out,  leacing  Cis  and  Mr.  Posket.] 

]\Ir.   Posket. 
Cis,  Cis.     Advise  me,  my  boy,  advise  me. 

Cis. 

It's  all  right,  Guv,  it\s  all  right.  Get  behind  some- 
thing. 

[Agatha  Vosket  peeps  from  under  the  table-cloth.] 

Agatha  Posket. 

^neas,  and  my  child  ! 

[]Mr.  Posket  and  Cis  ivander  about,  looking  for 
liiding-places.] 


THE  MAGISTRATE  97 

Vale. 
[To  Cis.]    Go  away. 

Cis. 
Oh! 

LUKYN. 

[To  Mr.  Posket,  xoho  is  fumbling  at  the  coals.]  No, 
no. 

Br,OND. 

[Popping  his  head  in.]    Tlie  police — comiug. 
[Cis  dlsa])pears  behind  Oie.  window-cnr'ttiin.    Mb. 
Posket  divea  under  the  tabh\] 

Agatha  Posket. 
Oh! 

]\Ir.   Posket. 

[To  Agatha  Posket  in  a  irhisp)er^  I  beg  your 
pardon.  I  think  I  am  addressing  a  lad^'.  I  am 
entirely  the  victim  of  circumstances.  Accept  my 
apologies  for  this  apparent  intrusion.  [No  answer.] 
Madam,  I  applaud  your  reticence,  though  any  state- 
ment made  under  the  present  circumstances  would 
not  be  used  against  you.  Where  is  that  boy?  Oh! 
Madam,  it  may  be  acute  nervousness  on  your  part, 
but  you  are  certainly  pincbitig  my  arm. 

[There  is  the  sound  of  heavy  feet  outside,  then  Mes- 
siter,  a  f/ruff,  matter-qtfact  luspeclor  of  Police, 
enters,  foUoived  by  Harris,  a  constable,  and 
AcHiLLE  Blond.] 

Blo\d. 

You  need  not  trouble  yourself,  take  my  word  for 
it. 


98  THE  MAaiSTRATE 

Messiter. 

No  trouble,  Mr.  Bloiul,  thank  you.       [Sniffing.'] 
'  Caudles — blown    out — lately.      This   is   where    the 
light  was. 

Blond. 

Perhaps.  My  servant,  Isidore,  sleeps  here ;  he 
has  only  just  gone  to  bed. 

Messiter. 

Oh  !  [Talinr/  a  hulVs-eye  lantern  from  Harris  and 
throwing  tJie  liglit  on  Isidore,  rvJio  is  apparentl ij  sleep- 
ing soundli/.]     Dead  tired,  I  suppose? 

Blond. 
I  suppose  so. 

Messiter. 

[Slightlg  turning  down  the  covering.']  He  sleeps 
in  his  clothes  ? 

Blond. 
Ob,  yes  ! 

Messiter. 
Always  ? 

Blond. 

Always — it  is  a  rule  of  the  hotel. 

Messiter. 
Oh  !     Why's  that? 

Blond. 
To  be  ready  for  the  morning. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  99 

Messiter. 

All  right — all  riglit.  [Thi'Oivhig  Hip  rug  and 
blanket  uxide.]  Isidore,  go  down-stairs  iuul  give  your 
full  name  and  particulars  to  Sergeant  Jarvis. 

IsiDOKE. 

[R  siug  iiifftanllg.]     Yes,  sir — very  good. 

Blond. 

[To  Isidore.]  Why  do  you  wake  up  so  soon? 
Devil  take  you  ! 

Isidore. 

I  beg  your  pardon.  [He  goes  oul.] 

Messiter. 
What  is  underneath  that  window,  Mr.  Blond? 

Blond. 
The  skylight  over  the  kitchen — devil  take  it ! 

Messiter. 

Thank  you — i/ou  can  go  down  to  the  sergeant 
now,  Mr.  Blond. 

Blond. 

With  pleasure — devil  take  me  !         [He  goes  o«/.] 

Messiter. 
Now  then,  Harris. 

Harris. 
Yes,  sir. 


100  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Messiter. 

Keep  perfectly  still  and  hold  3'our  breath  as  long- 
as  you  can. 

Harris. 

Hold  my  breath,  sir? 

Messiter. 

Yes.  I  want  to  hear  how  many  people  are  breath- 
ing in  this  room.     Are  yon  ready  V 

Harris. 
Yes,  sir. 

Messiter. 

Go!  [Harris  .'^■^/i'/c/.s•  ^till,  t /'gJi  1 1 1/  compressing  his 
lips  ;  Messiter  qaickbj  examines  Ids  face  by  the  light 
of  the  lantern,  then  ivalls  round  the  room,  listening, 
and  nodding  his  head  with  satiif action  as  he  passes 
t/ie  various  hiding-places.  Harris  xorithes  in  agony; 
in  the  end  lie  gives  d  up  and  breatlies  heavily]  Harris  ! 

Harris. 
[Exhausted.]    Yes,  sir ! 

Messiter. 
You're  breathing. 

Harris. 
Oh,  Lor',  yes,  sir  ! 

Messiter. 
You'll  report  yourself  to-night! 


THE  MAGISTRATE  101 

Harris. 
I  held  on  till  I  nearly  went  otit',  sir. 

Messiter. 

[Giving  him  the  ball's  eye.]  Don't  arj^ue,  but 
light  up.  Tliere  are  half  a  dozen  people  concealed 
in  this  room.  [There  is  a  cry  from  the  women. 
Charlotte  and  Vale  rise.  Lukyn  steps  from  behind 
the  coats.]     I  thought  so. 

[^.s*  Messiter  tarns,  Agatha  Pdsket  and  Mr. 
PosKET  rise,  Cis  comes  quietly,  catches  iiold  of 
Mr.  Posket  and  drays  him  across  to  the 
window.] 

Cis. 
[To  Mr.  Posket.]     Come  on,  Guv.     Come  on  ! 
[T/iey  disappear  through  the  curtain  as  Harkis 
turns   up  the  lights.     Then  there  is  a  cry  and 
the  sound  of  a  ci-ash.] 

Agatha  Posket. 
They're  killed  ! 

[Messiter  loots  through  the  wiruloiv.] 

IMessiter. 

No,  they're  not  ;  they've  gone  into  the  kitchen, 
and  the  balcony  with  them.     Look  sharp,  Harris. 

[Harris  goes  out  quickly.] 

Ltikyn. 
[To  Messiter.]     I  shall  report  you  for  this,  sir. 

Messiter. 

[Taking  out  iiis  note-book.]  Very  sorry,  sir;  it's 
my  duty. 


102  THE  MAGISTRATE 

LUKYN. 

Duty,  sir  !  Coming  yoiu"  confounded  detective 
tricks  on  ladies  iind  gentlemen!  How  dare  you 
make  Lidies  and  gentlemen  suspend  their  breathing 
till  they  nearly  have  apoplexy  ?  Do  you  know  I'm 
a  short-necked  man,  sir  ? 

Messiter. 

I  didn't  want  you  to  leave  off  breathing,  sir.  I 
wanted  you  to  breathe  louder.  Your  name  and 
address,  sir. 

LuKYN. 

Gur-r-r-h  ! 

Messiter. 
Army  gentleman,  sir? 

LUKY'N. 

How  do  you  know  that? 

Messiter. 

Short  style  of  speaking,  sir.  Army  gentlemen 
run  a  bit  brusquish  when  on  in  years. 

LuKYN. 

Oh  !  Alexander  Lukyn — Colonel — Her  Majesty's 
Cheshire  Light  Infantry,  late  Forty-first  Foot, 
Third  Battalion — Bengal — Retired. 

Messiter. 
\Writwg.\     Hotel  or  club,  Colonel  ? 

Lukyn. 
Neither.     19a  Cork  Street — lodgings. 


THE   MAiIlSTHATE  1U3 

jMessiteu. 
[^Wriling.]     Very  nice  part,  Colonel.     Thank  you. 

LUKYN. 

Bah  ! 

]Mi:sfsirEK. 
Other  gentleman  ? 

Vam:. 

[  With  lanijiiidh  ndcnr.\  Horatu;  E  Imuiul  Choliu- 
eley  Clive  Napier  Vale.  Captain  —  Shropshire 
Fusiliers — Stark's  Hotel,  Conduit  Street. 

MESsrrER. 
\^]Vrifii>(j.\     Retired,  sir? 

Vale. 
No,  confound  you — Active  ! 

jMessffer. 

Thank  you,  Captain.  Ahem  !  Beg  pardon.  The 
— -the  ladies.    - 

[Charlotte   diiujs   to   Vale,    Agatha  Posket  to 

LuKYN.] 

Charlotte  and  Agatha  Posket. 

No — no  !     No — no  ! 

Ll'kyn. 

\To  Agatha  Posket. J  All  right — all  right — trust 
to  me  !     [To  MessiterJ     Well,  sir? 

Messffer. 
Names  and  addresses,  please. 


104  THE  MAGISTRATE 

LuKYN. 

Officer — my  good  fellow — tell  me  now — er — um — 
at  the  present  moment  what  are  jou  most  in  want 
of? 

Messiter. 

These  two  ladies"  names  and  addresses,  please. 
Be  quick.  Colonel.  [Pointing  -to  Agatha  Posket.J 
That  lady  first. 

Li'KYN 

Christian  names  — er — ah — er — Alice  Emmeline. 

INIessitek. 
\_\Vrit/i>g.]     Alice,  Emmeline.     Surname? 

LUKYN. 

Er — um— Fitzgerald — 101  Wilton  Street,  Picca- 
dilly.. 

Messitee. 

Single  lady  ? 

LuKYN. 

Quite. 

Messitee. 
Very  good,  sir. 

Agatha  Posket. 

[To  LuKYN,  tearfully.^  Oh,  thank  you,  such  a  nice 
address  too. 

JNIessiter. 

[To  Vale.  J     Now,  Captain,  please — that  lady. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  105 

[  Who  ha.^  been  rea>!f!in'i)H/  Chahlotte.  ]     Haw  !  ha  ! 
tliis  lady  is— ah — urn— tlie  othiT  lady's  sister. 

Messiteh. 
Sin2;le  lady,  sir? 

Vale. 
Certainly. 

^Iessiter. 
[lVnfi)ig.]      Christian   nam,^,  Captain  ? 

Vale. 
Ah — um — Harriet. 

Messlcer. 
I  Writing.']     Suniauie. 

Vale. 
Er — Macnamara. 

Messiter. 

[Wifh  a  grim  smi/e]     Quite  so.     Lives  with  her 
sister,  of  course,  sir  ? 

Vale. 
Of  course. 

Messiter. 
Where  at,  sir  ? 

V.U.E. 

Albert  Mansions,  Victoria  Street. 
Charlotte. 

[To  Vale.]     Oli,  thank  you,  I  always  fancied  that 
spot. 


106  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Messiter. 
Very  much  obliged,  gentlemen, 

LUKYN. 

[TT7k>  /)0.s'  li.Heiipd  la  Vale's  avswerfi  iv  helplrs>< 
horror.]     By  George,  well  out  of  it! 

[Charlotte  toflem  (irro^»  to  Agatha  Pcsket,  who 
ejiibraci^^  ]u'r.\ 

LuKYN. 

\_Tak'nifi  (lo)i'n  iJie  overcoals  and  tlirowhtg  one  to 
Vale.]     Vale,  your  coat. 

[Harris  enters.] 

Harris. 

[  To  Messiter.]  Very  sorry,  sir  ;  the  two  other 
gentlemen  got  clean  oli",  through  the  l)ack  scullery 
door — old  hands  to  all  appearance. 

[Messiter  stumps  Iiisjoa/,  tnlh  an  cnlaniallon.] 

Agatha  Posket. 
\^To  herself.]      My  boy — saved  ! 

LuKYN. 

\^To  Harris,  u-ho  stands  twfore  the  door.]  Constable, 
get  out  of  the  way. 

Messiter. 

[Sharpl;/.]     Harris  ! 

Harris. 
[Witliout  movitnj.]     Yes,  sir. 


THK   MACISTUATK  1U7 

Mkssiteh. 

You  will  leave  the  hotel  with  these  ladies,  and  not 
lose  sight  of  them  till  you've  ascertained  what  their 
uaiiies  are  and  where  they  do  live. 

LuKVN  and  Vale. 
What  • 

Agatha  Posket  and  Charlott£,. 
Oh  I 

Messitkh. 

Your  own  fault,  gentlemen  ;    it's  my  duty. 

LUKYN. 

And  it  is  my  duty  to  save  these  helpless  women 
from  the  protecting  laws  of  my  confounded  country  ! 
Yale  : 

Yale. 

IPatthig  /i/.s  coat  on  the  i^ofa.^     Active  I 

Lt'KVN. 

[To  Harris. J  Let  these  ladies  pass!  [He  takes 
Harris  by  the  collar  and  fiings  him  over  to  Yale,  icho 
throic.-<  him  over  toivard  the  ladies,  ivho  push  him 
away.  Messiter  puts  a  ivhisfle  to  his  mouth  and. 
blows,  there  is  an  imaiediate  answer  from  without.] 
More  of  your  fellows  outside  ? 

Messiter. 

Yes,  sir,  at  your  service.  Yery  sorry,  gentlemen. 
but  you  and  your  party  are  in  my  custody. 

LuKYN  and  Y.\le. 
What? 


lOS  THE  .VACil^TBATE 

Agatha  Posket  and  ChapOjOTTe. 
Oh! 

jMessiter. 

For  assaulting  this  man   in  the   execution  of  his 
duty. 

Ltkyn. 

Youll  dare  to  lock  us  up  all  night  ? 

Messiter. 

It's  one  o'clock  now,  Colonel — you'll  come  on  first 
thing  in  the  niorning. 

LUKYN. 

Come  on.     At  what  court? 

MESsrrER 
Mulberry  Street. 

Agatha  Posket. 
Ah !     The  magistrate  ? 

Messiter. 

Mr.  Posket,  mum. 

[Agatha  Posket  sinks  info  a  chair,  Charlotte  at 
her  feet  ;  Lukyn,  overcome,  Jails  on  Vale's 
shoulders.] 

END    OF    the    second    ACT. 


THE   THIRD   ACT. 

Tlxe  first  scene  is  the  Mag i.sl rale's  Room  at  Mulberry 
Street  Pol  ire  Court,  with  a  diionmy  covered  by 
curtains  leading  directly  into  the  Court  and  a 
door  opening  into  a  passage.  It  is  the  morning 
after  Die  rv.'nts  n/tJie  last  Act. 

Police  SERciEAxr  Lugg,  a  middle-aged  man  with  a 
sliyht  couii/ry  dialect,  enters  rvith  The  Times 
new.-<paper,  and  proceeds  to  cut  it  and  glance  at  its 
contents,  while  he  hums  a  song. 

Mr.  Wormixgtox,  an  elderly  trim  and  precise  man, 
enters. 

Mr.  Wormington. 

Good-morning,  Lugg. 

Lugg. 
Morning,  Mr.  Wonningtou. 

IMr.  Wormington. 
Mr.  Posket  not  arrived  yet  ? 

LrGG. 

Not  yet,  sir     Hullo  !    f  Reading  ]   "  Raid  on  a  West 
End  Hotel.     At  an  early  hour  this  morning " 


110  THK   M  A  (U  ST  RATE 

Mk.  Wurmington. 
Yes,  I've  read  tliiit — a  case  of  assault  upon  the 
police. 

LUG(J. 

Why,  these  must  be  the  folks  who've  been  so  pre- 
cious rampageous  all  night, 

'S\\\.    'WoinUNGTON. 

Very  likely. 

LuGft. 

Yes,  sir,  protestin'  and  protestin'  till  they  pi'otested 
everybody's  sleep  away.  Nice-looking  women,  too, 
though,  as  I  tell  Mrs.  Lugg,  nowadays  thei-e's  no 
telling  who's  the  lad}'  and  who  isn't.  Who's  got 
this  job,  sir  ? 

Mr.  Wormington. 

Inspector  Messiter. 

LuGci. 

Messiter  !  That's  luck  !  W^liy,  he's  the  worst  elocu- 
tionist in  the  force,  sir*  [J.s  he  arrange>i  the  news- 
paper upon  the  table  he  eatches  flight  o/'Mr.  W^orming- 
ton's  necktie,  which  is  bright  red.\  Well,  I — excuse 
me,  Mr.  Wormington,  but  all  the  years  I've  had  the 
honor  of  knowin'  you,  sii",  I've  never  seen  you  wear 
a  necktie  with,  so  to  speak,  a  dash  of  color  in  it. 

Mr.  Wormington. 

W^ell,  Lugg,  no,  that's  true  ;  but  to-day  is  an  excep- 
tional occasion  with  me.     It  is,  in  fact,  the  twenty- 

*  A  city  magintrate,  cennur/ng  a  eondahlefor  the  indititinct- 
ness  of  liis  uUevdnces  in  the  tcitness-box,  sngge/tted  that  the 
police  should  be  instructed  in  a  method  of  deli ceri rig  evidence 
articulately. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  111 

fifth  anniversary  of  my  niarriaj^c,  and  I  tliouf;ht  it 
due  to  Mrs,  Wonningtou  to  vary,  in  some  slight 
degree,  the  sombj'eness  of  my  attire.  I  confess  1  ani 
a  little  uneasy  in  ease  Mr.  Posket  should  consider  it 
at  all  disrespectful  to  the  Court. 

LUGG. 

Not  he,  sir. 

Me.  Wormington. 

I  don't  know.  Mr.  Posket  is  punctiliousness  itself 
in  dress,  and  his  cravat's  invariably  black.  However, 
it  is  not  every  man  who  has  a  silver  wedding-day. 

LuGG. 

It's  not  everyone  as  wants  one,  sir. 

[Mr.  Wormington  goes  out ;  at  the  same  moment  Mr. 
Posket  enters  quicJdy  and  leans  on  his  chair 
as  if  exhausted.  His  appearance  is  extremely 
wretched ;  he  is  still  in  evening  dress,  but  his 
clothes  are  muddy  and  his  linen  soiled  and  crum- 
pled, lokile  across  the  bridge  of  his  nose  he  has  a 
small  strij)  of  black  plaster.] 

Mr.  Posket. 

[Faintly.]     Good-morning,  Lugg. 

LuGG. 

Good-morning  to  you,  sir.  Regretting  the  liberty 
I'm  taking,  sir — I've  seen  you  look  more  strong  and 

hearty. 

Mn.  Posket. 

I  am  fairly  -well,  thank  you,  Lugg.  My  night  was 
rather — rather  disturbed.     Lugg ! 


112  THE  MAGISTRATE 

LUGG. 

Sir? 

Mr.   Posket. 

Have  any  inquiries  been  made  about  me  this 
morning — any  messenger  from  Mrs.  Posket,  for  in- 
stance, to  ask  bow  I  am  '? 

LuGG. 
No,  sir. 

Mr.  Posket. 

Oh  !  my  child,  my  step-son,  young  Mr.  Farring- 
don,  has  not  called,  has  he? 

LuGG. 

No,  sir. 

Mr.    Posket. 

[To  hbnself.]  Where  can  that  boy  be  ?  [To  Lugg.] 
Thank  you,  that's  all. 

Lugg. 

[Who  has  been  eying  Mr.  Posket  ^vith  astonishmenl, 
goes  to  the  door  and  tlien  fonrJtes  the  bridge  of  ids 
nose.]     Nasty  cut  while  shavin',  sir.     [Tjvgg  goes  oid-l 

Mr.  Posket. 

Where  can  that  boy  have  got  to  ?  If  I  could  only 
remember  how,  when,  and  where  we  parted  !  I 
think  it  was  at  Kill)urn.  Let  me  think— first,  the 
kitchen.  [Putting  h.i.<  limid  to  Jiis  side  as  if  severely 
braised.]  Oh  !  Cis  was  all  right,  because  I  fell 
underneath  ;  I  felt  it  was  my  duty  to  do  so.  Then 
what  occurred  ?     A  dark    room,  redolent  of   onions 


THE  MAGISTRATE  113 

and  cabbages  and  paniffiue  oil,  and  Cis  dragging  me 
over  the  stone  floor,  saying,  "  We're  in  the  scullery, 
Guv  ;  let's  try  and  tind  the  tradesmen's  door."  Next, 
the  night  air — oh,  how  refreshing!  "Cis,  my  boy, 
we  will  both  learn  a  lesson  from  to-night — never  de- 
ceive." Wliere  are  we  ?  In  Argyle  Street.  "  Look 
out,  Guv,  they're  after  us."  Tlien — then,  as  Cis  re- 
marked when  we  were  getting  over  the  railings  of 
Portman  Square — then  the  fun  began.  We  over 
into  the  Square — they  after  us.  Over  again  into 
Baker  Street.  Down  Baker  Street.  Curious  rec- 
ollections, whilst  running,  of  my  first  visit,  as  a 
happy  child,  to  Madame  Tussavnl's,  and  wondering 
whether  her  removal  had  affected  my  fortunes. 
"  Come  on,  Guv — you're  getting  blown."  Where  are 
we?  Park  Road.  Wiiat  am  I  doing?  Getting  up 
out  of  puddle,  St.  John's  Wood.  The  cricket-ground. 
"I  say,  Guv,  what  a  run  this  would  be  at  Lords', 
wouldn't  it?  and  no  fear  of  being  run  out  either, 
more  fear  of  being  run  in."  "  What  road  is  this, 
Cis  ?  "  Maida  Vale.  Good  gracious  !  A  pious  aunt 
of  mine  once  lived  in  Hamilton  Terrace  ;  she  never 
thought  I  should  come  to  this.  "Guv?"  "Yes, 
my  boy."  "Let's  get  this  kind-hearted  coffee-stall 
keeper  to  hide  us."  We  apply.  "  Will  you  assist 
two  unfortunate  gentlemen?"  "No,  blowed  if  I 
will."  "Why  not?"  "'Cos  I'm  agoin'  to  join  in  the 
chase  after  you."  Ah !  Off  again,  along  Maida 
Vale  !  On,  on,  heaven  knows  how  or  where,  till  at 
last,  no  sound  of  pursuit,  no  Cis,  no  breath,  and  the 
early  Kilburn  'buses  starting  to  town.  Then  I  came 
back  again,  and  not  much  too  soon  for  the  Court. 
\Going  up  to  the  wash-stand  and  looking  into  the  little 
mirror,  ivith  a  low  groan.]    Oil,  how  shockingly  awful 


114  THE  MAOrSTRATE 

I  look,  and  how  stiff  and  sore  I  feel  !  [Talcing  off  his 
coal  and  hanging  it  on  a  'peg,  tlien  ivashing  his  hands.] 
Wliat  a  weak  and  double-faced  creature  to  be  a 
magistrate  !  I  really  ouglit  to  get  some  member  of 
Parliament  to  ask  a  question  about  me  in  the  House. 
Where's  the  soap?  I  shall  put  five  pounds  and  costs 
into  the  poor's  box  to-morrow.  But  I  deserve  a  most 
severe  caution.  Ah,  perhaps  I  shall  get  that  from 
Agatha.  [lie  takes  ojf  his  ivhite  tie,  rolls  it  up  and 
crams  it  into  his  pociiet.]  When  Wormington  ar- 
rives I  will  borrow  some  money  and  send  out  for  a 
black  cravat !  All  my  pocket  money  is  in  my  over- 
coat at  the  Hotel  des  Princes.  If  the  police  seize  it 
there  is  some  consolation  in  knowing  that  that  money 
will  never  be  returned  to  me.  [Tliere  is  a  knock  at 
the  door.]     Come  in  ! 

[LuGG  enters.] 

LUGG. 

Your  servant,  Mr.  Wyke,  wants  to  see  you,  sir. 

Mk.  Posket. 
Bring  him  in.      [Lugg  goes  out.]     Wyke  !     From 
Agatha  !     From  Agatha  ! 

[Lugg  re-enters  %vith  Wyke.] 

Wyke. 
Ahem  !     Good-morniug,  sir. 

Mr.  Posket. 
Good-morning,  Wyke.     Ahem !     Is  Master  Far- 
ringdon  quite  well? 

Wyke. 
He  hadn't  arrived  home  when  I  left,  sir. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  115 

Mr.   Posket. 

Oh!     Where   is  that  boy?     [To  Wyke.]     How's 
your  mistress  this  morning,  Wyice  ? 

Wyke. 
Very  well,  I  hope,  sir ;  s/ttf  ain't  come  home  vet, 
either. 

Mr.   Posket. 
Not  returned — nor  Miss  Verrinder  ? 

Wyke. 
No,  sir — neither  of  them. 

Mr.   Posket. 
[To  himsdf.]     Lidy  Jenkins  is   worse — they  are 
still  nursing  her.     Good  women,  true  women  ! 

Wyke. 

[To  Jiimself.]     Tliat's  eased  his  deceiviii' old  mind. 

jMr.   Posket. 
[To  himself.]     Now,  if  the   servants  don't  betray 
me,  and  Cis  returns  safely,  the  worst  is  over.     To 
what  a  depth  I  have  fallen  when  I  rejoice  at  Lady 
Jenkins'  indisposition  ! 

Wyke. 
Cook  thought  you   ought  to  know  that  the  mis- 
tress hadn't  come  home,  sir. 

Mr.  Posket. 
Certainly.     Take  a  cab  at  once  to  Campden  Hill 
and  bring  me  back  word  how  poor  Lady  Jenkins  is. 
Tell  Mrs.  Posket  I  will  come  on  the   moment  the 
Court  rises. 


116  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Wyke. 

Yes,  sir. 

]\Ir.   Posket. 

And,  "Wyke.  It  is  not  at  all  necessary  that  Mrs. 
Posket  should  know  of  my  absence  with  IMaster 
Farringdon  from  home  last  night.  Mrs,  Posket's 
present  anxieties  are  more  than  sufficient.  Inform 
Cook,  and  Popham,  and  the  other  servants  that  I 
shall  recognize  their  discretion  in  the  same  spirit  I 
have  already  displayed  toward  you. 

Wyke. 
\WUh  mrcas^m.]  Thank  you,  sir.  I  will.  [He 
produces  from  his  imit^l coat- pocket  a  small  pocket  of 
rnouet/  done  up  in  iieu-ypapcr,  ir/rich  he  thi'ows  doivn 
upon  the  (aljle.J  Meanwhile,  .'^ir,  I  thought  you  would 
like  to  count  up  the  little  present  of  money  3'ou 
gave  me  last  night,  and  in  case  you  thought  you'd 
been  over  liberal,  sir,  you  might  halve  the  amount. 
It  isn't  no  good  spoihng  of  us  all,  sir. 

[Lugo  eiders.] 
Mr.  Posket. 
You  are  an  excellent  servant,  Wyke  ;  I  am  very 
pleased.     I  will  see  you  when  you  I'eturn  from  Lady 
Jenkins'.     Be  quick. 

"Wyke. 
Yes,  sir.     [To  himself]     He  won't  give  me  two- 
pence again  in  a  hurry. 

[He  goes  out  ;  Lugg   is  about  fofolluro.] 

Mr.  Posket. 
Oh,  Lugg,  I  want  you  to  go  to  the  nearest  hosier's 
and  purchase  me  a  neat  cravat. 


THE  MA  tUS  Til  A  TB  117 

LUGG. 

{^Looking  iiiquisitivdi/  at  Mu.  Posket.]  A.  necktie, 
sir  ? 

Mr.  Posket. 

Yes.  [Turning  up  Jiw  coat  collar  to  shield  himself 
from  Lugg's  gaze.]     A  necktie — a  necktie. 

LUGG. 

What  sort  of  a  kind  of  one,  sir  ? 

Mr.  Posket. 
Oh,  one  like  Mr.  Woriuington's. 

LuGG. 

One  like  he's  wearing  tliis  morning,  sir  ? 

Mr.  Posket. 
Of  course,  of  course,  of  course. 

LuGG. 

[To  himself.']  Fancy  him  being  jealous  of  Mr. 
Wormington,  now.  Verv  good,  sir.  What  price, 
sir? 

Mr.  Posket. 

The  best.  [To  himself.]  There,  now,  I've  no 
money.  \ Seeing  the  pacL-et  on  table.]  Oh,  pay  for 
it  with  this,  Lugg. 

LuGG. 
Yes,  sir. 

Mr.   Posket. 

And  keep  the  change  for  your  trouble. 


118  THE  MAOISTUATB 

LUGG. 

Thank  you,  sir,  tUank  you,  sir — very  mucli  obliged 
to  you,  sir.  [To  himself. '\  That's  like  a  liberal  gen- 
tleman. 

[LuGG  goes  out  as  Mr.  Wormington  enters  tlirough 
the  curtains  loilh  Oie  charge  sheet  in  his  hand. 
Mr.  Wormington  on  seeing  Mr.  Posket  uneasily 
tucks  his  pocket-handkerchief  in  his  collar  so  as 
to  Jiide  his  necktie.] 

Mr.   Wormington. 
H'm !     Good-moniing. 

Mr.  Posket. 
Good-morning,  Wormington. 

Mr.  Wormington. 

The  charge  sheet. 

Mr.  Posket. 

Sit  down. 

[Mr.  Wormington  puts  on  his  spectacles.  Mr. 
Posket  also  attempts  to  put  on  his  spectacles,  but 
hurts  the  bridge  of  his  nose,  winces,  and  desists.] 

Mr.  Posket. 

[To  himself]  My  nose  is  extreme/y  painfuh  [To 
]Mr.  Wormington.]  You  have  a  bad  cold,  I  am  afraid, 
Wormington — bronchial  ? 

Mr,  Wormington. 

Ahem  !  Well  — ah — the  fact  is — you  may  have 
noticed  how  very  chilly  the  nights  are. 


THE  MAdlSTRATE  Hi) 

Mr.  Posket. 

Very.  very. 

Mr.  Wormixc.ton'. 

The  ouly  way  to  maintain  the  circulation  is  to  run 
as  fast  as  one  can. 

Mk.    1\)SKET. 

To  run — as  fast  as  one  can — yes — quite  so, 

Mr.  Wormington. 

[To  himself,  loohhui  at  Mr.  Posket's  shirt-frniit.'\ 
How  very  extraordinary — he  is  wearing  no  cravat 
whatever. 

Mr.  Posket, 

[Buttoning  up  his  coat  to  amid  Mr.  Wormington's 
g ize.]     Anything  important  this  morning? 

Mr.  Wormington. 

Nothing  particular  after  the  first  charge,  a  serious 
business  arising  out  of  the  raid  on  the  Hotel  des 
Princes. 

Mr.  Posket. 

[Starting.]     Hotel  des  Princes  ? 

Mr.  Wormington. 

Inspector  Messiter  found  six  persons  supping 
there  at  one  o'clock  this  morning.  Two  conti'ived 
to  escape. 

Mr.   Posket. 

Dear  me— I  am  surprised — I  mean,  did  they  ? 


120  THE  MAdlSTRATE 

]Mr.  WokMINCtTON. 

But  they  left  their  overcoats  behind  them,  and  it  is 
believed  they  -will  be  traced. 

INIr,  Posket. 

Oh,  do  you — do  you  think  it  is  worth  while  ?  The 
police  have  a  great  de;d  to  occupy  them  just  now. 

Mr.  Wokmington. 

But  surely  if  the  police  see  their  way  to  capture 
anybody  we  had  better  raise  no  obstacle. 

Mr.  Posket. 
No — DO— quite  so — never  struck  me. 

Mr.   ^Y0RMINGT0N. 

[Be/erring  to  charge  i^heet.']  The  remaining  four  it 
was  found  necessary  to  take  into  custody. 

Mr.  Posket. 

Good  gracious  !  Wliat  a  good  job  the  other  two 
didn't  wait.  I  beg  your  pardon — I  mean — you  say 
we  have  four  ? 

Mr.  Wormingtox. 

Yes,  on  the  charge  of  obstructing  the  police.  The 
first  assault  occurred  in  the  supper-room — the  second 
in  the  four-wheeled  cab  on  the  way  to  the  station. 
There  were  tive  persons  in  the  cab  at  the  time — the 
two  women,  the  two  men,  and  the  InsjDector. 

Mr.  Posket. 

Dear  me,  it  must  have  been  a  very  complicated 
assault.     Who  are  the  unfortunate  people  ? 


THE  .VAaiSTIiATt:  121 

Mr  "NVokmington. 

The  men  are  of  some  position.  [/icojUikj  ]  "  Alex- 
ander Lukyn,  Colonel " 

Mr.   Posket. 

Lukyn  !  I — I — know  Colonel  Lukyn  ;  we  are  old 
schoolfellows. 

Mr.  WoR:\nN(;TON. 

Very  sad  !  The  other  is  \rr(fdiiif/]  '•  Horace,  etc., 
etc.,  Vale — Captain — Shropshire  Fusiliers." 

Mr.  Posket. 
And  the  ladies  ? 

]\[r.   WorMINCtTON. 

Call  themselves  "Alice  Emmeline  Fitzgerald  and 
Harriet  Macuamara." 

Mr.    Posket. 

[To  himself.]  Which  is  the  lady  who  was  under 
the  table  with  me? 

Mr.  Wormington. 

They  are  not  recognized  by  the  police  at  present, 
but  they  furnish  incorrect  addresses,  and  their  de- 
meanor is  generally  violent  and  unsatisfactory. 

Mr,  Posket. 
[To  himi^elf.]     "Who  pinched  me — Alice  or  Har- 
riet ? 

Mr.  Wormixgton. 

I  mention  this  case  because  it  seems  to  be  one 
callinf?  for  most  stringent  measures. 


122  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Mr.  Posket. 

Wouldn't  a  fine,  and  a  severe  warning  from  the 
Bench,  to  the  two  persons  who  have  got  away 

jNIr.  Wormington. 

I  think  not.  Consider,  IMr.  Posket,  not  only  defy- 
ing the  licensing  laws,  but  obstructing  the  police  ! 

Mr.  Posket. 

That's  true — it  is  hard,  when  the  police  are  doing 
anything,  that  they  should  be  obstructed. 

[LuGG   enters.'\ 

LUGG. 

{^Attempting  to  conceal  some  annoyance.^  Your 
necktie,  sir. 

Mr.  Posket. 
S-ssh  ! 

Mr.  Wormington. 

[To  himself.^  Then  he  came  without  one — dear 
me  ! 

LuGG. 

[Clapping  doimi  a  paper  parcel  on  the  table.]  As 
near  like  Mr.  Wormington's  as  possible — brighter  if 
anything. 

Mr.  Posket. 

[Opening  the  parcel  and  finding  a  very  common 
gaudy  neckerchief. \  Good  gracious  !  What  a  hor- 
rible affair  ! 

LuGG. 

According  to  my  information,  sir — like  Mr.  Worm- 
ington's. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  123 

Mr.  Posket. 

Mr.  Wormington  would  never  be  seen  in  such 
an  abominable  color. 

Mr.   Wormington. 

"Well — -really — I—  [Removing  the  handkerchief 
from  hi tf  throat.]     I  am  extremely  sorry. 

Mr.  Posket. 
My  dear  Wormington  ! 

Mr.  Wormington. 

I  happen  to  be  wearing  something  similar — the 
first  time  for  five-and-twenty  years. 

Mr.   Posket. 

Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,  [To  himself]  Everything 
seems  against  me. 

LUGG. 

One-and-nine  it  come  to,  sir.  [Producing  the  paper 
packet  of  money  and  laying  it  upon  the  table.]  And  I 
brought  back  all  the  money  you  gave  me,  thinking 
you'd  like  to  look  over  it  quietly.  Really,  sir,  I 
never  showed  up  smaller  in  any  shop  in  all  my  life  ! 

Mr.  Posket. 

Upon   my  word.     First  one    and  then    another ! 
What  is  wrong  with  the  money?     [Opena  the  jMcket.] 
Twopence!     [To   himself.]     That   man    Wyke   will 
tell  all  to  Agatha !     Oh,  everything  is  against  me. 
[LuGG  has  opened  the  door,  taken  a  card  from 
someone  outside,  and  handed  it  to  Mr.  Worm- 
ington.] 


124  THE  MAGISTEATE 

Mk.     WuRMIN(iTOX. 

From  cell  No.  3. 

[Ilandiiuj  Ihr  card  In  Mk.   Pusket.J 

Mk.   Posket. 

[Rrad)nri.'\  "  Dear  Posket,  for  the  love  of  good- 
ness, see  ine  V:)efore  the  sitting  of  the  Court.  Alex- 
ander Lnkjn."  Poor  dear  Lukvn !  What  on  earth 
shall  1  do  ? 

Mk.    WoilMINGTOX. 

Such  a  course  would  be  most  unusual. 

Mr.  Posket. 

Everything  is  unusual.  Your  cravat  is  unusual. 
This  prisoner  is  invited  to  dine  at  my  house  to-day — 
that's  peculiar.  He  is  my  wife's  first  husband's  only 
child's  god-father — that's  a  little  out  of  the  ordinary, 

Mk.  "Wormington. 
The  charge  is  so  serious  ! 

]Me.  Posket. 

But  I  am  a  man  as  well  as  a  magistrate ;  advise 
me,  Wormington,  advise  me  ! 

Mr.  Wormington. 

Well — you  can  apply  to  yourself  for  permission  to 
grant  Colonel  Lukyn's  request. 

Mk.  Posket. 

[Hastily  sci'ibbling  on  Lukyn's  card.]  I  do — I  do — 
and  after  much  conflicting  argument  I  consent  to  see 
Colonel  Lukyn  here  immediately.     [Handing  the  card 


THE  MAdlST/lATE  125 

to  Mr.  Wormington,  inlio  p.'rs.sr.s-  //  fo  Lugg,  7c>ho  then 
got'..-^  out .\  Don't  leave  me,  Worniingtou — you  must 
stand  by  me  to  see  that  I  remain  calm,  firm,  antl 
judicial.  \^He  Jiast/'li/  puts  on  the  red  necktie  in  an 
iintidij  manner.^  Poor  Lvikyn,  I  must  sink  the  friend 
in  tlie  magistrate,  and  m  dealing  with  his  errors 
apply  the  scourge  to  myself.  [7'*  Mr  Wormington.J 
Worniington,  tap  me  on  the  shoulder  when  I  am  in- 
clined to  be  more  than  usually  unusual. 

[Mr.  Wormington  stands  lyehind  him,  and  Lugg  enters 
with  LuKYN.  Lukyn's  dress  clothes  are  much 
soiled  and  disordered,  and,  lie,  too,  has  a  small 
strip  of  plaster  upon  t)ie  bridge  of  his  vose. 
There  is  a  constrained  pause,  Lueyn  and  Mr. 
PosKET  both  cough.^ 

LUKYN. 

[  To  h  imself.  ]     Poor  Posket ! 

Mr.  Posket. 
[To  himself.]     Poor  Lukyn  ! 

LUKYX. 

[To  himself]  I  suppose  he  has  been  sitting  up 
for  his  wife  all  night,  poor  devil '  [7b  Mr.  Posket. J 
Ahem!     How  are  vou,  Posket? 

[Mr.  Wormington  touches  Mi;.  Posket's  shoulder.] 

Mr.  Posket. 

I  regret  to  see  you  in  this  terrible  position,  Colonel 
Lukyn. 


126  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Lt'KYN. 

By  George,  old  fellow,  I  regret  to  find  myself  in  it. 
[Silling  and  laking  up  ne'irspaper.]  I  suppose  they've 
got  us  in  the  Times,  confound  'em! 

[  117///^' Li'KYN  is  reading  tite  j^oper,  Mr.  Posket 
and  Mr.  WoRMiNdiox  iiold  a  hurried  consul- 
tation respecting  Li'kyn's  behavior. '\ 

Mr.  Posket. 
H'ra !     [To    LuGG.J     Sergeant,    I    think    Colonel 
Lukyn  may  be  accommodated  with  a  chair. 

Lug  a. 
He's  in  it,  sir. 

Lukyn. 
[Rising  and  putting  doini  paper.']     Beg  your  par- 
don,   forgot   where   I  was.     I    suppose    everything 
must  be  formal  in  this  confounded  place  ? 

Mr.  Posket. 

I  am  afi-aid.  Colonel  Lukvn,  it  will  be  necessary 
even  here  to  preserve  strictly  our  unfortunate  rela- 
tive positions.  [Lukyn  6(;0'.]  Sit  down.  [Lukyn 
sits  again.  Posket  takes  up  Ike  c/iarge  sheet.]  Colo- 
nel Lukyn  !  Li  addressing  you  now,  I  a\n  speaking, 
not  as  a  man,  but  as  an  instrument  of  the  law.  As 
a  man  I  may,  or  nmy  not,  be  a  weak,  vicious,  des- 
picable creature. 

Lukyn. 

Certainly — of  course. 

Mr.  Posket. 

But,  as  a  magistrate,  I  am  bound  to  say  you  fill 
me  with  pain  and  astonishment. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  127 

LUKYN. 

Quite   right — every   man  to   his   trade.     Go  on, 
Posket. 

]\[r.  Posket. 

[^Turning    his   chair  to  face  Lukyn.]     Alexander 
Lulivu  —  when  I  look  at  you  —  when  I  look  at  you 

[He  attempts  to  put  on  he's  >^pectacle^.]    Ah — iny 

nose,  [To  Luky'n.]  I  say,  when  I  look  at  you,  Alex- 
ander Lukyn,  I  confront  a  most  uiournt'ul  spectacle. 
A  military  officer,  trained  in  the  ways  of  discii^line 
and  smartness,  now,  in  consequence  of  his  own  mis- 
doings, lamentably  bruised  and  battered,  shamefully 
disfigured  by  plaster,  with  his  apparel  soiled  and 
damaged — all  terrible  evidence  of  a  conflict  with 
that  power  of  which  I  am  the  representative. 

Lukyn. 
[  Turning   his  chair  to  face  Mr.  Posket.]     Well, 
Posket,  if  it  comes  to  that,  when  I  look  at  you,  when 

I  look  at  you [He  attempts  to  fix  hix  yla.<s  in 

/t/.s  ei/p,]  Confound  my  nose  !  [To  Mr.  Posket.] 
Wlien  I  look  at  you,  ijou  are  not  a  very  imposing  ob- 
ject this  morning. 

Mr.  Posket. 
Lukyn. 

LuKY-N. 
You  look  quite  as  shaky  as  I  do — and  you're  not 
quite  innocent  of  court-plaster. 

Mr.  Posket. 
Lukyn  !     Really  ! 

Lukyn. 
And  as  for  our  attire,  we  neither  of  us  look  as  if 
we  had  slipped  out  of  a  bandbox. 


128  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Mr,  Posket. 

Don't,  Lukyn,  don't !  Pray  respect  my  legal 
status  !  [Mh.  WoKiiiNGTON  leads.  Mr.  Posket,  xcJio 
has  ?-/.sr/?,  boct  to  his  smi.]  Thank  yon,  Worniington. 
Alexander  Lukyn,  I  have  spoken.  It  remains  for 
you  to  state  your  motive  in  seeking  this  painful 
interview. 

Lukyn. 

Certainly  !  H'ni !  You  know,  of  course,  that  I 
am  not  alone  in  this  affair? 

INIii,  Posket. 

[Referring  to  charge  sheet.']  Three  persons  ap- 
pear to  be  charged  with  you. 

Lukyn. 

Yes,  Two  others  got  away.  Cowards  !  If  ever 
I  find  them,  I'll  destroy  them  ! 

]Mr.  Posket. 
Lukyn  ! 

Lukyn. 
I  will !     Another  job  for  you,  Posket. 

]Mu.  Posket. 

[With  dignity.]  I  beg  your  pardon,  in  the  event 
of  such  a  deplorable  occurrence,  I  should  not  occupy 
my  present  position.     Go  on,  sir. 

Lukyn. 

Horace  Vale  and  I  are  prepared  to  stand  the 
brunt  of  our  misdeeds.  But,  Posket,  there  are 
ladies  in  the  case. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  129 

Mr.  Posket. 

Ill  the  annals  of  the  Mulberry  Street  Police 
Court  such  a  circumstance  is  not  unprecedented. 

LUKYN. 

Two  helpless,  forlorn  ladies. 

^Mu.    PoSKET. 

[Referring  to  charge  .s7(fW.]  Alice  Emnieline  Fitz- 
f:^erald  and  Harriet  Macnamara.  Oh,  Lukyn  1 
Lukyn  ! 

LUKYX. 

Pooh  !  I  ask  no  favor  for  myself  or  Vale,  but  I 
come  to  you,  Posket,  to  beg  you  to  use  your  power 
to  release  these  two  ladies  without  a  moment's 
delay. 

[Mr.  Wormixgton  touche^^lslR.  Posket's  shoulder.^ 

Mr.  Posket. 

Upon  m}'  word,  Lukyn  !  Do  yoa  think  I  am  to 
be  undermined  ? 

Lukyn. 

Undermine  the  devil,  sir !  Don't  talk  to  me ! 
Let  these  ladies  go,  I  say  !  Don't  bring  them  into 
Court  —  don't  see  their  faces  —  don't  hear  their 
voices  !     If  you  do,  you'll  regret  it ! 

Mr.   Posket. 
Colonel  Lukyn  ! 

Lukyn. 

{Leaning  ac7-osi<ihe  table  a)id  gripping  Mr.  Posket 
hi/  the  shoidder'.]  Posket,  do  you  know  that  one  of 
these  ladies  is  a  married  lady  ? 


1?,0  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Mr.  Posket. 
Of  course  I  don't,  sir.     I  blush  to  hear  it. 

LuKYX. 

And  do  you  know  that  from  the  moment  this 
married  hidy  steps  into  your  confounded  Court,  the 
happiness,  the  contentment,  of  a  doting  husband 
become  a  confounded  wreck  and  ruin  ? 

Mr.  Posket. 

Then,  sir,  let  it  be  my  harrowing  task  to  open  the 
eyes  of  this  foolish  doting  man  to  the  treachery,  the 
perfidy,  which  nestles  upon  his  very  hearth-rug  ! 

LUKYN. 

Oh,  Lor'  !  Be  careful,  Posket !  By  George,  be 
careful ! 

Mr.  Posket. 

Alexander  Lukyn,  you  are  my  friend.  Amongst 
the  personal  property  taken  from  you  when  you  en- 
tered tliese  precincts  may  have  been  found  a  memo- 
randum of  an  engagement  to  dine  at  my  house  to- 
night at  a  quarter  to  eight  o'clock.  But,  Lukyn,  I 
solemnly  prepare  you,  you  stand  in  danger  of  being 
Lite  for  dinner  !  I  go  further — I  am  not  sure,  after 
this  morning's  proceedings,  that  Mrs.  Posket  will  be 
ready  to  receive  you. 

Lukyn. 

I'm  confoundedly  certain  she  wonH  ! 

Mr.  Posket. 

Therefore,  Lukyn,  as  an  English  husband  and 
father  it   will   be   my   duty   to  teach  you  and  your 


THE  MAGISTRATE  131 

disreputable  companions  Yrcferrhuj  In  rharge  i^Jicctl, 
Alice  Emmeline  Fitzoerald  aiul  Harriet  Macnainara, 
some  rudimentary  notions  of  propriety  and  decorum, 

LUKYN. 

Confound  you,  Posket — listen ! 

Mr.  Posket. 

I  am  listening,  sir,  to  the  guiding  voice  of  Mrs. 
Posket — that  newly-made  wife  still  blushing  from 
the  embarrassment  of  her  second  marriage,  and  that 
voice  says,  "Strike  for  the  sanctity  of  hearth  and 
houie,  for  the  credit  of  the  wives  of  England — no 
mercy  !  " 

INIr.  Wormington. 

It  is  time  to  go  into  Court,  sir.  The  charge 
against  Colonel  Lukyn  is  first  on  the  list. 

LuKYN. 

Posket,  I'll  give  you  one  last  chance  !  If  I  write 
upon  a  scrap  of  paper  the  real  names  of  these  two 
unfortunate  ladies,  will  you  shut  yourself  up  for  a 
moment,  away  from  observation,  and  read  these 
names  before  you  go  into  Court  ? 

Mk.  Posket. 

Certainly  not,  Colonel  Lukyn !  I  cannot  be  in- 
fluenced by  private  information  in  dealing  with  an 
otfeuce  which  is,  in  my  opinion,  as  black  as — as  my 
cravat !     Ahem  ! 

[Mr.  Wormington  and  Mr.  Posket  look  at  each 
other's  necktie  and  turn  iq)  their  collars  haS' 
tily.\ 


132  THE  MAGISTRATE 

LtUvYN. 

[To  hhnself.]  There's  no  help  for  it.  [To  Mr. 
PosKET.]  Then,  Posket,  you  must  have  the  plain 
truth  where  you  stand,  by  George  !  The  two  ladies 
who  are  luy  companions  in  this  atiair  are 

jMr.   Posket. 
Sergeant !      Colonel   Lukyn     will    now    join    his 
party.  [Lugg  steps  ujj  to  Lukyn,  sharply.] 

Lukyn. 
[Boiling  iviOi  imli(jnatioii.\     What,  sir  ?     What? 

Mr.  Posket. 
Lukyn,  I  think  we  both  have  engagements — will 
you  excuse  me  ? 

Lukyn. 
Posket !  You've  gone  too  far  !  If  you  went  down 
on  your  knees,  which  you  appear  to  have  been  re- 
cently doing,  and  begged  the  names  of  these  two 
ladies,  you  shouldn't  have  'em  !  No,  sir,  by  George, 
you  shouldn't. 

Mr.  Posket. 
Good-morning,  Colonel  Lukyn. 

Lukyn. 
You've  lectured  me,  pooh-poohed  me,  snubbed  me 
— a  soldier,  sir — a  soldier !  But  when  I  think  of 
your  dinner-party  to-night,  with  my  empty  chair, 
like  Ban  quo,  by  George,  sir — and  the  chief  dish 
composed  of  a  well-browned,  well-basted  family 
skeleton,  served  up  under  the  best  silver  cover,  I 
pity  you,  Posket !     Good-morning  ! 

[He  nicDvhes  out  with  Lugo.] 


THE  MAGISTRATE  133 

Mr.  Posket, 

Ah  !  Thank  proodness  that  ordeal  is  passed. 
Now,  Wonniiigton,  I  tliink  I  am  ready  to  face  the 
duties  of  the  day  !     .Sliall  we  go  into  Court  ? 

Mr.  Wormington, 

Certainly,  sir. 

[Mr.  WoR^MixaTON  gathers  up  papers  from  the 
table.  Mr.  Posket  with  a  shaking  hand  j^oiirs 
out  ivaterfrom  carafe  and  drinks.'] 

Mr.  Posket. 

My  breakfast.  [  To  Mr.  AVormingtox.]  I  hope  I 
defended  the  sanctity  of  the  Englishman's  hearth, 
Wormiugton  ? 

Mr.  Wormington. 
You  did,  indeed.     As  a  married  man,  I  thank  you. 

Mr.  Posket. 

Give  me  your  arm,  Wormington  !  I  am  not  very 
well  this  morning,  and  tins  interview  with  Colonel 
Lukyn  has  shaken  me.  I  think  your  coat-collar  is 
turned  up,  Wormington. 

Mr.   Wormington. 
So  is  yours  I  fancy,  sir. 

]Mr.  Posket.  ^ 

Ahem  I 


134  THE  MAGISTRATE 

[They  turn  their  collars  down ;  Mr.  Posket  takes 
!Mr.  Woumington's  arm.  Tliey  are  going  toir. 
ard  the  curtains  when  Wyke  enters  hurriedly  at 
the  door.'\ 

Wyke. 
E>:cuse  me,  sir. 

Mr.  Wormington. 

Hush  !  Hush  !  Mr.  Posket  is  just  going  into 
Court. 

Wyki^. 

Lady  Jenkins  has  sent  me  back  to  tell  you  that 
she  hasn't  seen  the  missis  for  the  last  week  or  more. 

Mr.  Posket. 

Mrs.  Posket  went  to  Campden  Hill  with  Miss 
Verrinder  last  night ! 

Wyke. 
They  haven't  arrived  there,  sir. 

IMr.  Posket. 
Haven't  arrived  ! 

Wyke. 

No,  sir — and  even  a  slow  four-wheeler  won't  ac- 
count for  that. 

Mr.  Posket. 

Wormington!  there's  something  wrong!  Mrs. 
Posket  quitted  a  fairly  happy  home  last  night  and 
has  nut  been  seen  or  heard  of  since  ! 


THIC  MAGlSTRArE  135 

Mr.  Wormingtox. 

Pray  don't  be  unxious,  sir,  the  Court  is  waiting. 

Mr.  Posket. 

But  I  am  anxious!  Tell  Sergeant  Lugg  to  look 
over  the  Accident-Book,  this  morning's  h(jspit;il  j-e- 
turns,  list  of  Missing  Children,  Suspicious  Pledges, 
Peojile  left  Chargeable  totheParish,  Attend  to  Yoiir 

Window  Fastenings I — I — Wormiugton,  Mrs. 

Posket  and  I  disagreed  last  night. 

'Shi.    WORMINGTON. 

Don't  think  of  it,  sir  !  Yon  should  hear  me  and 
Mrs.  Wormington  !     Pray  do  come  into  Court. 

Mr.  Posket. 

Court !  I'm  totally  unfit  for  business !  totally 
unfit  for  business  ! 

[Mu.  Wormington  hurrie.^  him    off  /liroiu/Ji  /lie  cur- 
tains.    LuGG  enlers  almost  brcalidess.] 

LUGG. 

We've  got  charge  one  in  the  Dock — all  four  of 
'em.      [Seeing  \Yyke.]     Hallo!  you  Ijack  again  ! 

Wyke. 

Yes — seems  so.  (  Thei/  stand  facing  each  other, 
dabbing  their  foreheads  ivith  their  handhercliiefs.^ 
Phew  !  you  seem  warm. 

LuGG. 
Phew  !  you  don't  seem  so  cool. 


136  THE  MAGlSTliATE 

Wyke. 
I've  been  lookiu'  after  two  ladies. 

LUGG. 

So  have  I. 

Wyke. 
1  haven't  found  'era. 

LuGG, 

If  I'd  known,  I'd  a  been  pleased  to  lend  you  our 
two. 

\_Frout  lilt'  (ilhrr  side  of  iJir.  vnrltt'nix  there  ).-<  Ilic 
,s(iini(f  of  a  KhricI'  from  Agatha  Posket  and 
Chaulotte.J 

Wyke. 
Lor' !  what's  that  ? 

LlKiG. 

That  is  our  two.  Don't  notice  them — they're  hys- 
tericals.  They're  mild  now  to  what  they  have  been. 
I  say,  old  fellow — is  your  guv'nor  all  right  in  his 
head  ? 

Wyke. 
I  suppose  so — why  ? 

LuGG. 

I've  a  partickler  reason  for  asking.  Does  he  ever 
tell  you  to  buy  hiiu  anything  and  keej)  the  change  ? 

Wyke. 
What  dy're  mean  ? 

LuGG. 

Well,  does  he  ever  come  down  handsome  for  your 
extry  exertion — do  you  ever  get  any  tips? 


THE  JfAh'IS/'ILlT/^J  137 

Wyke. 

Rather.  What  do  3'ou  think  he  made  me  a  present 
of  last  night? 

LUGG. 

Don't  know. 

Wyk?:. 
Twopence — to  buy  a  new  umbrella. 

LuGG. 

Well,  I'm  blessed  !  And  he  gave  mo  the  same 
sum  to  get  him  a  silk  i^ecktie.  It's  my  opinion  he's 
gob  a  softening  of  the  brain.  \Aii()/lirr  ^liviek- front 
Ihc  tiro  iromen,  a  vvy  from  Mu.  Posket,  and  then  a 
hiihbiih  are  heard.  Rttiniiin/  up  to  the  curtawH  and. 
loobhirf  th)'ou(/h.^  Hallo  !  what's  wrong  V  Here  !  I 
told  you  so — he's  broken  out,  he's  broken  out. 

Wyke. 
Who's  broken  out? 

LuGG. 

The  lunatic.     Keep  back,  I'm  wanted. 

[He  goes  tJirough  the  curtains.^ 

Wyke. 

[Looking  after  him.'\  Look  at  the  guv'nor  waving 
his  arms  and  going  on  anyhow  at  the  prisoners  ! 
Prisoners  !     Gracious  goodness — it's  the  missis  ! 

[Amid  a  confi/sed  soujid  of  voices  Mr.  Posket 
is  brought     in    through    the  curtains  by    Mr. 

WORMINGTOX.      LuGG  /olloiVS.^ 


138  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Mr.  Posket. 

"Wormington  !  Wormiugton  !    the  two  ladies  !  the 
two  ladies !     I  know  tbem  ! 

INIk.  Wormikgton. 

It's  all  right,   sir,  its  all  right — don't    be  upset, 
sir  ! 

Mr.   Posket. 

I'm  not  well  ;  what  shall  I  do  ? 

^Ir.   Wormington. 

Nothing    further,    sir.     What   you   have    done  is 
quite  in  form. 

j\Ir.   Posket. 

What  I  have  done  ? 

]Mr.  Wormington. 

Yes,  sir — you    did    precisely  w^hat  I  suggested — 
took  the  words  from  me.     They  pleaded  guilty. 

Mr    Posket. 
Guilty  ? 

Mr.  Wormington. 
Yes,  sir — and  you  sentenced  them. 

Mr.  Posket. 
Sentenced  them  !     The  ladies  ? 


THE  MAGISTRATE  13!) 

Mr.  Wormington. 

Yes,  sir.     You've  given  them  seveu   days,  without 
the  option  of  a,  tine. 

[Mil.   PosKET    collapsea  into  Mr.   Wormington's 
arms.] 


THE    SECOND    SCENE. 

The  scene  changes  Id    Mr.    Posket's   drawing-room, 
((s  In.  the  First  Act. 

Beatie  enters  timidly,  dressed  in  simple  loalklng-cos- 
tume. 

Beatie. 

How  dreadfully  early.  Eleven  o'clock,  and  I'm 
not  supposed  to  come  till  four.  I  wonder  why  I  want 
to  instruct  Cis  all  day.  I'm  not  nearly  so  enthusi- 
astic about  the  two  little  girls  I  teach  in  Russell 
Square. 

[PopHAM  enters.    Her  eyes  are  red,  as  if  from  crying.^ 

■     POPHAM. 

[^Drawing  l)ack  on  seeing  Beatie.]  That  music 
person  again.  I  beg  your  pardon — I  ain't  got  no 
instructions  to  prepare  no  drawing-room  for  no  les- 
sons till  four  o'clock. 

Be.\tie. 
I  wish  to  see  Mrs.  Posket. 


140  TIIK  M  Ad  1ST  HATE 

Pol'HAM. 

She  basu't  come  home. 

Beatib. 
Oh,  then — er — urn — Master  Farringdon  will  do. 

PoPHAM. 

[In  teara.^     He  haven't  come  home  either ! 

Beatie. 
Oh,  where  is  he  ? 

PopHA:\r. 

No  one  knows  !  His  wicked  old  step-fatlier  took 
him  out  late  last  niglit  and  hasn't  returned  him. 
Such  a  night  ns  it  was,  too,  and  him  still  wearing 
his  summer  under- vests. 

Beatie. 
Mr.  Posket? 

PoPHAM. 

Mr,  Posket — no,  my  Cis  ! 

Beatie. 

How  dare  you  speak  of  Master  Farringdon  in  that 
familiar  way  ? 

PoPHAM. 

How  dare  I  ?  Because  me  and  him  formed  an 
attachment  before  ever  yow  darkened  our  doors. 
[Taking  a  folded  printed  popei'from  her  pocket.^  You 
may  put  down  the  iron  'eel  too  heavy.  Miss  Tomlin- 


TlIK  MAtnSTHATK  141 

son.     I  refer  you  to  Bow  Bells — "  First  Love  is  Best 
Love  ;  or,  The  Earl's  Clioice." 

[J.s  PopHAM  offer:^  the  paper,  Cis  fiifrr.s  looking  very 
jmIc,  ujorn-oul,  and  dishevelled.^ 

PoPHAM  ami  Beatie. 
Oh! 

Cis. 
[S/nr/geri)ig  In  a  chair. '\     Where's  the  mater? 


Not  home  yet. 
Thank  giminy 
He's  ill ! 


I'nrilAM. 

Cis. 
Beatie, 
Popiia:\i. 


Oh!  t 

[Beatie,  asfiided  by  Popham.  quickh/  tnheeh  the 
large  arm-chair  forward ;  they  catch  hold  of 
Cis  and  place  him  in  it ;  he  submits  limply.] 

Beatie. 

[Taking  Cis'  hand.]  What  is  the  matter,  Cis, 
dear?     Tell  Beatie. 

PoPHAM. 

[Taking  his  other  hand.]  Well,  I'm  sure  !  Who  s 
"iveii  you  raisins  and  ketchup  from  the  store  cup- 
board ?     Come  back  to  Emma  ! 

[Cis,  with  his  eyes  closed,  gives  a  murmur.^ 


142  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Beatie. 

He's  whispering ! 

[They  butli.  boh  tlieir  heads  doion  to  listen.] 

POPHAM. 

He  saj-s  his  head's  a-whirling. 

Beatie. 
Put  him  on  the  sofa. 

[The;/  take  off  Itis  boots,  loosen  his  necktie,  and 
dab  his  forehead  with  water  out  of  a  fioicer- 
rase.] 

Cis. 
I — I — I  wish  you  two  girls  would  leave  off. 

Beatie. 

He's  speaking  again.  He  hasn't  had  any  break- 
fast !     He's  hungry  ! 

^  PoPHAM. 

Hungry !  I  thought  he  looked  thin  !  Wait  a 
minute,  dear  !  Emma  Popham  knows  what  her  boy 
fancies  !  [She  runs  out  of  the  room.\ 

Cis. 

Oh,  Beatie,  hold  my  head  w-hile  I  ask  you  some- 
thing. 

Beatie. 
Yes,  darling  ! 

Cis. 

No  lady  would  marry  a  gentleman  who  had  been 
a  convict,  would  she  ? 


THE  MAGISTRATE  143 

Beatie. 
No  ;  certainly  not ! 

Cis. 

I  thought  not !  Well,  Beatie,  I've  been  run  after 
by  a  policeman. 

Beatie. 

[^Leaving  Jiim.'\     Oh  ! 

Crs. 

Not  caught,  you  know,  only  run  after  ;  and,  walk- 
ing home  from  Hendon  tliis  morning,  I  came  to  the' 
conclusion  that  I  ought  to  settle  down  in  life.    Beatie, 
could  I  write  out  a  paper  promising  to  marry  you 
when  I'm  one-and-twenty  ? 

Beatie. 
Don't  be  a  silly  boy— of  course  you  could. 

Cis. 

Then  I  shall ;  and  when  I  feel  inclined  to  have  a 
spree,  I  sliall  think  of  that  paper  and  say,  "  Cis  Far- 
ringdon,  if  you  ever  get  locked  up,  you'll  lose  the 
most  beautiful  girl  in  the  world." 

Beatie. 
And  so  you  will.  [He  goes  to  the  loriting-tahle.^ 

Cis. 

I'd  better  write  it  now,  before  my  head  gets  well 
again.  \^He  writes,  she  bends  over  him.'] 


144  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Beatie. 

You  simple,  foolisli.  Cis  I  If  your  bead  is  so  queer, 
shall  I  tell  you  what  to  say  ? 

[PoPHAM  en/e/'.s,  rarnjinfi  a  trcuj  wifh  hirakfaxt  difihe!<.'\ 

PuPIIAM. 

[To  herself.']  He  won't  think  so  much  of  hey'  now. 
His  breakfast  is  my  triumph.  [7u  Cis.]  Coflfee, 
bacon,  and  a  tea-cake. 

Beatie, 

Hush  !  Master  Farringdou  is  writing  something 
very  important. 

POPHAM. 

[Going  lo  the  ivindoio.]     That's  a  cab  at  our  door. 

Cis. 

It  must  be  the  mater  —I'm  oft' ! 

[Re  picks  lip  liis  hools  and  goes  otit  quickhj.'j 

Beatie. 

[Folloxoing  him  with  the  paper  and  inkstand.^  Cis  ! 
Cis !  You  haven't  finished  the  promise  !  You  hav- 
en't finished  the  promise  ! 

LUGG. 

[Heard  outside.]  All  right,  sir — I've  got  you — I've 
got  you.  [PoPHAM  opens  the  door.] 

PoPHAM. 

The  master  and  a  policeman  !  [Lugg  enters  snp- 
porliiuj  ^Ik.  Posket,  ?(;/(o  sinks  into  an  arm-chair,  with 
a  yroun  J     Oh,  what's  the  matter? 


THE  MAGISThATE  145 

Lugo. 

All  riij^lit,  my  <i-ood  r>-ivl,  yon  ran  down-stairs  and 
fetch  a  drop  of  brandy  and  water. 

Mr.  Posket. 
[Rnrrylug  out.]     Oh  ! 

LUGG. 

Now,  don't  take  on  so,  sir.  It's  what  raiglit  hap- 
pen to  any  married  fifentleman.  Now,  you're  all 
right  now,  sir.  And  I'll  hurry  back  to  the  Court  to 
see  whether  they've  sent  for  Mr.  Bullaray. 

Mr.   Posket, 
My  wife  !     My  wife  ! 

LuGG. 

Oh,  come  now,  sir,  what  /s  seven  days !  Why, 
many  a  married  gentleman  in  your  position,  sir, 
would  have  been  glad  to  have  made  it  fourteen. 

Mr.    Posket. 

Go  away — leave  me. 

LuGG. 

Certainly,  sir.  [Popham  re-enters  ivith  a  small 
tumbler  nf  brand;/  and  water  ;  he  takes  it  from  her  and 
drinks  it.]  It's  not  wanted.  I'm  thankful  to  say 
he's  better. 

POPH.^M. 

[To  LuGG.]  If  you  please,  cook  presents  her  com- 
pliments, and  she  would  be  glad  of  the  pleasure  of 
your  company  down-stairs  before  leavin'. 

[They  go  out  ] 


146  THE  MAOISTRaTE 

]\Ir.  Posket. 

Agatha  and  Lukyn  !  Agatha  and  Lukyn  supping 
together  at  the  Hotel  des  Princes,  while  I  was  at 
home  and  asleep — wliile  I  ought  to  have  been  at 
home  and  asleep !     It's  awful  ! 

Cis. 

[Looking  in  at  the  door  and  entering.^  Hallo, 
Guv! 

]Mr.  Posket. 
[Starting  up.]     Cis  ! 

Cis. 
Where  did  you  fetch,  Guv  ? 

Mr.    Posket. 

Where  did  I  fetch  !  You  wretched  boy  !  I  fetched 
Ivilburn,  and  I'll  fetch  you  a  sound  whipping  when 
I  recover  my  composure. 

Cis. 
What  for  ? 

Mr.   Posket. 

For  leading  me  astray,  sir  Yours  is  the  first  bad 
companionship  I  have  ever  formed  !  Evil  communi- 
cation with  you,  sir,  has  corrupted  me  !  [Taking  Cis 
by  the  coUar  and  shaking  him.]  Why  did  you  aban- 
don me  at  Kilburn  ? 

Cis. 

Because  you  were  quite  done,  and  I  branched  off 
to  draw  the  crowd  away  from  you  after  me. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  147 

Mr.  Posket. 

Did  you,  Cis,  did  you?  [Pn/'/nr)  his  hnml  on 
Cis'  .^/louhler.]  My  boy — my  boy  I  Oh.  Cis,  we've 
in  such  trouble  ! 

Cis. 
You  weren't  caugbt,  Guv  ? 

Mr.  Porket. 

No — but  do  you  know  who  the  ladies  are  who 
were  supping  at  the  Hotel  des  Princes? 

Crs. 
No — do  you  ? 

]Mr.  Posket. 

Do  I  ?  They  were  your  mother  and  Aunt  Char- 
lotte. 

Cis. 

The  mater  and  Aunt  Charlotte !  Ha,  ha,  ha ! 
[Laughing  and  dancing  with  delighl.]  Ha!  ha  !  Oh, 
I  say,  Guv,  what  a  lark  ! 

Mr.  Posket. 
A  lark  !     They  were  taken  to  the  police  station! 

Cis. 
\flhanging  his  tone.1     My  mother? 

Mr.   Posket. 

They  were  brought  before  the  magistrate  and 
sentenced. 

Cis. 
Sentenced  ? 


148  THE   MA'ilSTRATE 

jMr.   Posket. 
To  seven  days'  imprisounient. 

Cis. 
Oh!  [Hepids  hu  hat  onfin^cebj.] 

Mr.  Posket. 
What  ;ue  you  giniig  to  do  ? 

Cis. 

Get  iny  luotber  out  tirst,  and  then  break  every 
bone  in  that  magistrate's  body. 

Mr.  Posket. 

Cis !  Cis  !  He's  an  unhappy  wretch,  and  he  did 
his  diitv. 

Cis. 

His  duty  !  To  send  another  nnigistrate's  wife  to 
prison !  Guv,  I'm  only  a  boy,  but  I  know  what 
professional  etiquette  is  !  Come  along  !  Which  is 
the  police  station  ? 

JMr.   Pocket. 
Mulberry  Street. 

Cis. 
Who's  the  magistrate  ? 

Mr.  Posket. 
I  am ! 

Cis. 

You  !  [Seizing  ]\Ir.  Posket  hi/  the  collar  and  i<hakr- 
iiKj  /t////.]  You  dare  to  lock  up  my  motljer  I  Come 
witli  me  and  j-et  her  out  I 


TTTF   }r.\(U><TTi.\TE  149 

\Heiii  dragging    'SIk.  Posket  foirard  l!if  door,  when 
Mr.  Bullamy  eii(t'7-:<  brealldetidy.'\ 

Mr    Bl'LLVAIY. 

iMy  dear  Posket  ! 

Cis 

[!^eizing  INTr.  Bullamy  nnd  drof/giiig  him  ivifii.  Mr. 
Posket  fo  lite  do<>7:]  Come  witli  nie  .'uid  get  iiiv 
inotlier  out. 

Mr.  Buli.amy. 

Leave  lae  alone,  sir  I     Slie  ix  out  !     I  inaiiagetl  it. 

]\Ir.  Posket  and  Cis. 
[Togefher.]     How  ? 

Mr.  Bullamy. 

Wonnington  sent  to  nie  when  you  \vere  taken  ill. 
When  I  arrived  at  the  Court,  he  liad  discovered, 
from  your  man-servant,  i\Irs  Posket'sawful  position. 

Cis. 
You  leave  my  mother  alone  I     Go  on  ! 

]Mr.   Bull.\my. 

Said  I  to  myself,  "  This  won't  do  ;  I  must  extricate 
these  people  somehow  !  "  [To  Mr  Posket. ]  I'm  not 
so  damned  conscientious  as  you  are,  Posket. 

Cis. 
Bravo  !     Go  on  ! 

jNI)'..  Bullamy. 

[Producing  hi!<  jnjuhc  hor.'j  The  first  thing  I  did 
was  to  take  a  jujube. 


150  TlIK  M  Ail  1ST  HAT  hJ 

CiS. 

[SiiiifcJtinr/  /hf'jiijuhr.  box  from  In'm.]  "Will  V(ni 
make  Laste  ? 

jNIk.   Bi'm.a^iv. 

Tlieu  saiil  I  to  Woi'ininj^toii,  "  Posket  was  iioii 
coiiipori  meiih's  when  he  heanl  this  case — I'm  g'oin«f 
to  reopen  the  nintter  '  " 

Cis. 
Hurrah  ! 

Mr.  Bulla]\iy. 

And  I  (.lid.  And  what  do  you  think  I  found  out 
from  the  proprietor  of  the  hotel? 

Mr.  Posket  and  Cis 
What? 

Mr.  Bullamy. 

That  this  young  scamp,  Mr.  Cecil  Farringdon, 
hires  a  room  at  the  Hotel  des  Princes. 

Cis. 

I  know  that. 

Mr.  Bullamy. 

And  that  Mr.  Farringdon  was  tliere  last  night 
with  some  low  stock-broker  of  tlie  name  of  Skinner. 

(^is. 

rioon— goon!  [Oj/'i'vinij  him  iJio  jujuhe  bo.r.'\ 
Take  a  jujube ! 


THE  MAGr^TRATE  1  .S  1 

Mr.  Bullamy. 

[TahvTg  ajujuhf.]  Now,  the  law,  which  seems  to 
me  quite  perfect,  allows  a  man  who  rents  a  little 
apartment  at  an  inn  to  eat  and  drink  with  his  friends 
all  night  long. 

Crs. 
Well  ? 

Mr.  Buli.amv, 

So  said  I  from  the  bench,  *'  These  ladies  and 
gentlemen  appear  to  be  friends  or  relatives  of  a  cer- 
tain lodger  in  the  Hotel  des  Princes." 

Cis. 
So  they  are ! 

Mk.  Bullamy. 
"  They  were  all  discovered  in  one  room." 

'Shi.    POSKET. 

So  we  were— I  mean,  so  they  were  ! 

]Mr.    BlLLAMV. 

"  And  I  shall  adjourn  the  case  for  a  week  to  give 
Mr.  Farringdon  an  opportunity  of  claiming  these 
people  as  his  guests." 

Cis. 
Three  cheers  for  Bullamy. 

Mr.  Bullamy. 

So  I  censured  the  police  for  their  interference 
and  released  the  ladies  on  their  own  recognizances. 


152  THE   MA(!l>^TRATE 

Mk.   PosfvET. 
[Taking  Mr.   Bullamy's  Imn'L]     And  the  men? 

Mr.   Bullajiy. 

Well,  unfortunately,  Worniington  took  upon  him- 
self to  despatch  the  men  to  the  House  of  Correction 
before  I  arrived. 

Mr.   Posket. 
I'm  glad  of  it  I     They  are  dissolute  Aillains !     Pm 
glad  of  it. 

[PoPHAM  enlevii^.^ 

POPHAM. 

Oh,  sir  !  Here's  the  missis  and  Miss  Verrinder ! 
In  such  a  plight ! 

Cis. 
The  mater  !     Guv,  you  explain.  i 

[He  huri'ies  out.  Mr.  Posket  rapidhj  retirr.<  into  Ihf 
w'nidow  recess.  Agatha  Posket  and  Chaklotie 
enter,  pale,  red-eyed,  and  agitated.  Pophaji  goes 
out.] 

Ag.atha  Posket  and  Charlotte. 

[FaJliiH/  onto  Mn.  Bullamv's  shoulders  ]  O — o — 
h— h  ! 

Mr.  Billamy. 

My  clear  ladies  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 
Preserver ! 

Charlotte. 
Friend  ! 


Till::  MAdlsTUATE  15u 

Agatha  Posket. 
How  is  my  boy  ? 

Mr.  Bullamy. 
Never  better. 

Agatha  Posket. 
And  the  man  who  condemned  his  wife  and  sister- 
in-law  to  the  miseries  of  a  jail  ? 

Mk.   Bullamv. 
Ahem  I     Posket— oh — he 

Agatha   Posket. 

Is  he  well  enough  to  be  told  what  that  wife  thinks 
of  him  ? 

Mr.    Blllamy. 
It  might  cause  a  relajDse  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 
It  is  ray  duty  to  risk  that. 

Charlotte. 
[Riddng   the   covers  of  the  (fishes  on   the  table.] 

Food : 

Agatha  Posket. 
Ah! 

[Agatha  Posket  and  Charlotte  begin  to  devour 
a  tea-cake  voraciously.] 

]\Ir.  Posket. 
JA/ivancing,  willi  an  attempt  at  dignify.]     Agatha 

Po.sk    t. 


154  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Agatha  Posket. 

[Bismg,  ivlth  her  mouth  fall,  and  a  piece  of  tea- 
cake  in  her  hand.]     Sir  ! 

[Charlotte  takes  tiie  tray  and  everything  on  it 
from  the  table  and  goes  toward  the  door^ 

Mr.  Bull  amy. 

[^Going  to  the  door.]  There's  going  to  be  an  ex- 
planation. 

Charlotte. 

[^At  the  door.]  There's  going  to  be  an  explana- 
tion.      [Charlotte  and  Mr.  Bullamy  go  out  quietly  ] 

Mr.  Posket. 
How  dare  yon  look  me  in  the  face,  madam? 

Agatha  Posket. 

How  dare  you  look  at  anybody  in  any  position, 
sir  ?  You  send  your  wife  to  prison  for  jjushing  a 
mere  policeman. 

Mr.  Posket. 

I  didn't  know  what  I  was  doing. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Not  when  yon  requested  two  ladies  to  raise  their 
veils  and  show  their  faces  in  the  dock  V  We  shouldn't 
have  been  discovered  but  for  that. 

Mr.  Posket. 
It  was  my  duty. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  155 

Agatha  Posket. 

Duty !  You  dou't  go  to  the  police  court  again 
alone  !  I  guess  now,  ^iieas  Posket,  why  you  clung 
to  a  single  life  so  long       You  Likud  it  ! 

Mr.   Posket. 
I  wish  I  had. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Why  didn't  you  nuirry  till  you  were  fifty? 

Mu.   Posket. 
Perhaps  I  hadn't  met  a  wiilow,  madam. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Paltry  excuse.  You  revelled  in  a  dissolute  bache- 
lorhood ! 

Mu.  Posket. 
Hah  !     Whist  every  evening  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 

You  can't  play  whist  alone.  You're  an  expert  at 
hiding,  too  ! 

Mr.  Posket. 
If  1  were  I  should  thrash  your  boy  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 

When  you  wished  to  conceal  yourself  last  night, 
you  selected  a  table  with  a  lady  under  it. 

Mr.  Posket. 
Ah  !    Did  you  pinch  me,  or  did  Charlotte  ? 


J5(3  Till-:   MAdlsTIlATE 

Agatha  Pusket. 
I  (lid— Charlotte's  a  single  girl. 

Mr.   Posket. 

I  fancy,  madam,  you  found  my  conduct  under  that 
table  perfectly  respectful  ? 

Agatha  Posket. 
I  don't  know — I  Avas  too  agitated  to  notice. 

Mr.   Posket. 
Evasion  ;  you're  like  all  the  women. 

Ag.vtha  Posket. 
Profligate  !     You  oughtn't  to  know  that ! 

Mr.  Posket. 

No  wife  of  mine  sups,  unknown  to  me,  with  dis- 
solute military  men  ;  we  will  have  a  judicial  separa- 
tion, Mrs.  Posket. 

Ag.\tha  Posket. 

Certainly.  I  suppose  you'll  manage  that  at  your 
police  court,  too  ? 

Mr.  Posket. 

I  sliall  send  for  my  solicitor  at  once. 

Agatha  Posket. 

iEneas  !  'Slv.  Posket !  Whatever  happens,  you 
shall  not  have  the  custody  of  my  boy. 


THE  )r.\(USTIL\Th:  157 

Mi;.    Poskkt. 

Your  boy  !  /t;ike  (•Imrge  oi  liini  !  Aj^'atha  Posket., 
he  has  been  my  evil  genius  I  He  has  made  me  a 
gambler  at  an  atrocious  game,  called  Fireworks  ; 
he  has  tortured  my  mind  with  abstruse  specula- 
tions concerning  Sillikin  and  B\itterscotch  for  the 
St.  Leger  ;  he  has  caused  me  to  cower  before  ser- 
vants, and  to  tly  before  the  police. 

Agath\  Posket. 
He  !     My  Cis  ? 

[Cis  enferx,  hnviiu/  r/tnn '/«'/!  his  c/oth<^s.\ 

Cis. 
[Breezih/.]     Hallo,  mater!  Got  back? 

AoATilV    POSKKT. 

You  wicked  boy !  You  dare  to  have  apartments 
at  the  Hotel  des  Princes  ! 

Mr.  Posket. 

Y'es — and  it  was  to  put  a  stop  to  that  which  in- 
duced me  to  go  to  ]Meek  Street  last  night. 

Cis. 

Don't  be  angry,  mater  !  I've  got  you  out  of  your 
ditiieulties. 

Mr.  Posket. 

But  you  got  me  into  mine  ! 

Cis. 

Well,  I  know  I  did — one  can't  be  always  doing  the 
ricfht  thine: !     It  isn't  Guv's  fault — there  ! 


158  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Mr.  Posket. 
Swear  it ! 

Agatha  Posket. 

No,  be  doesn't  know  the  nature  of  an  oath  !  1 
believe  bim  !  J5neas,  I  see  now,  this  is  all  the  result 
of  a  lack  of  candor  on  my  part.  Tell  me,  have  you 
ever  particularly  observed  this  child? 

Mr.  Posket. 
Oh! 

Agatha  Posket. 
Has  it  ever  struck  you  be  is  a  little  forward? 

Mr.  Posket. 
Sometimes. 

Agatha  Posket. 
You  are  wrong  ;  he  is  awfully  backward.  \_Taking 
Mr.  Posket's  hauJ.]  iEneas,  men  always  think  they 
are  marrying  angels,  and  women  would  be  angels  if 
they  never  had  to  grow  old.  That  warps  their  dis- 
positions.    I  have  deceived  you,  Ji^neas. 

Mr.  Posket. 
Ah !     Lukyn  ! 

Agatha  Posket. 

No — no — you  don't  understand  !  Lukyn  was  my 
boy's  godfather  in  eighteen  sixty-six. 

Mr.  Posket. 
1866? 

Cis. 
1886? 


TlIK  MAdlSTEATE  159 

Cis  and  Mr.  Posket. 

[^Together,  reckon!  )ig  ropidUi  upon  I  heir  /inger.-^.l 
1886. 

Agatha  Posket. 

S-s-s-h  !  Don't  count !  Cis,  go  away  !  [To  Mr. 
Posket.]  Wlien  you  proposed  to  me  in  the  Pan- 
theon at  Spa,  you  particularly  remarked,  "  Mrs. 
Farringdon,  I  love  you  for  yourself  alone." 

^h\.  Posket. 
I  know  I  did. 

Agatha  Posket. 

Those  were  terrible  words  to  address  to  a  widow 
with  a  son  of  nineteen.  [Crs  and  Mr.  Posket  again 
reckon  rapidlg  upon  their  Jingers.]  Don't  count, 
^neas,  don't  count !  Those  words  tempted  me.  I 
glanced  at  my  face  in  a  neighboring  mirror,  and  I 
said,  "  .^neas  is  fifty — why  should  I — a  mere 
woman,  compete  with  him  on  the  question  of  age  ? 
He  has  already  the  advantage — I  will  be  generous — 
I  will  add  to  it  !  "  I  led  you  to  believe  I  had  been 
married  only  fifteen  years  ago  ;  I  deceived  you  and 
my  boy  as  to  his  real  age,  and  I  told  you  I  was  but 
one-and-thirty. 

Mr.  Posket. 

It  wasn't  the  truth  ? 

Agatha  Posket. 

Ah  !  I  merely  lacked  woman's  commonest  fault, 
exaggeration. 

Mr.  Posket. 
But— Lukyn  ? 


160  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Agatha  Posket. 

Knows  the  real  facts.  I  went  to  him  last  night  to 
beg  him  not  to  disturb  an  arrangement  which  had 
brought  happiness  to  all  parties.  Loolc.  In  place 
of  a  wayward,  troublesome  child,  I  now  present  you 
with  a  youth  old  enough  to  be  a  joy,  comfort,  and 
support ! 

Cis. 

Oh,  I  say,  mater,  this  is  a  frightful  sell  for  a  fel- 
low. 

Agatha  Posket, 

Go  to  your  room,  sir. 

Cis. 

I  always  thought  there  was  something  wrong  with 
me.     Blessed  if  I'm  not  behind  the  age  ! 

[Cis  goes  ou/.] 

Agatha  Posket. 

Forgive  nie,  ^neas.  Look  at  my  bonnet !  A 
jiight  in  Mulberry  Street,  without  even  a  powder- 
puff,  is  an  awful  expiation. 

Mr.  Posket. 

Agatha  !  How  do  I  know  Cis  won't  be  five  and 
twenty  to-morrow  ? 

Agatha  Posket. 

No — no — you  know  the  worst,  and  as  long  as  I 
live,  I'll  never  deceive  you  again — except  in  little 
things. 


THE  MAGISTRATE  161 

[LuKYN  and  Vale  enter.] 

LUKYN^ 

[Boiling  with  rage.]     By  George,  Posket ! 

Mr.   Posket. 
My  clear  Lukyn  ! 

LUKYN. 

Do  3'ou  know  I  am  a  confounded  jail-bird,  sir  ? 

Mr.  Posket. 
An  accident ! 

Lukyn. 

And  do  you  know  what  has  happened  to  me  in 
jail — a  soldier,  sir — an  officer  ? 

Me.  Posket. 
No! 

Lukyn. 
I  have  been  washed  by  the  authorities. 

Mr.  Posket. 
Lukyn,  no  ! 

[Charlotte  Aa.s  entered,  and  she  rushes  across  to 
Vale.] 

Charlotte. 
Horace  !     Horace  !     Not  you,  too  ? 

Vale. 
By  Jove,  Charlotte,  I  would  have  died  first. 


162  THE  MAGISTRATE 

[Mb.  BnLLA:MY  enters  quickly.'^ 

Mr.  Bullamy, 

Mr.  Posket,  I  shall  choke,  sir !  Inspector  Messi- 
ter  is  down-stairs  and  says  that  Isidore,  the  waiter, 
swears  that  you  are  the  man  who  escaped  from  Meek 
Street  last  night. 

LUKYN. 

What  ? 

Mr.  Bullamy. 
This  is  a  public  scandal,  sir. 

LuKYN. 

Your  game  is  up,  sir  ! 

Mr.  Bullamy. 

You  have  brought  a  stain  upon  a  spotless  police 
court ! 

LuKYN. 

And  lectured  me  upon  propriety  and  decorum. 

Mr.  Posket. 

Gentlemen,  gentlemen,  when  you  have  heard  my 
story  you  will  pity  me. 

LuKYN  and  Mr.  Bullamy. 
[Laughing  ironicalh/.]     Ha  !  ha  ! 

Mr.  Posket, 

You  will  find  your  old  friend  a  man,  a  martyr, 
and  a  magistrate  ! 


THE  MAGISTRATE  163 

[Cis  enters,  pulling  Beatie  after  him.'] 

Cis. 

Come  on,  Beatie  !  Guv — mater !  here's  news ! 
Beatie  and  I  have  made  vip  our  minds  to  be  married. 

Agatha  Posket. 
Oh! 

[PoPHAM  enters  rvifh  champagne  and  glasses.] 

Mr.  Posket. 
What's  this? 

Cis. 

BolHuger — '74 — extra  drv — to  drink  our  health 
and  happiness. 

Charlotte. 
Champagne  !     It  may  save  my  life  ! 

AoATHA  Posket. 
Miss  Tomlinson,  go  home  ! 

Mr.  Posket. 

Stop  !  Cis  Farringdon,  my  dear  boy,  you  are  but 
nineteen  at  present,  but  you  were  only  foui'teen 
yesterday,  so  you  are  a  growing  lad  ;  on  the  day  you 
marry  and  start  for  Canada,  I  will  give  you  a  thou- 
sand pounds ! 

PoPHAM. 

[Putting  her  apron  to  her  eyes  ]     Oh  ! 

Cis. 

[Embracing 'Beatie.]  Hurrah!  We'll  be  married 
directly. 


184  THE  MAGISTRATE 

Agatha  Posket. 
He's  an  infant !     I  forbid  it ! 

Mr.  Posket. 

1  am  his  legal  guardian.    Gentlemen,  bear  witness  I 

I  solemnly  consent  to  that  little  wretch's  marriage ! 

[Agatha  Posket  sinks  into  a  c'/tow*.] 


THE   END 


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